Owner of a lonely heart
by Mexwojo
Summary: At the end of 'Mysterious Ways', Woody finally talks to Jordan. What were they really thinking? I plan to add some more chapters to this story. Life is unbearable when you can't face your demons, and love is really scaring.
1. They had grown up apart from each other

**_Disclaimer: _**_I don't own Crossing Jordan, and I should really get over it, but it seems I can't._

**_Summary: _**_At the end of 'Mysterious Ways', Woody finally talks to Jordan. What were they really thinking? I plan to add some more chapters to this story. Life is unbearable when you can't face your demons, and love is really scaring._

**_A/N_**_: I had posted this as one-shot but now I'm thinking to develop an idea, so, I'm adding some chapters to it. I'm also publishing this in Spanish first, and then, I'm translating it to English. And again, no beta, tell me how I did it! _

**_Warning:_**_ This is supposed to be a story of healing and there's no actual healing without real suffering. You just have to touch the bottom, the very low end of life to begin upon new basis. It may content some mature scenes, sexually explicit, but mostly, I want to deal with the obscure side of soul. _

_PLEASE REVIEW!_

_Ah! And you can play the 'YES' song in your mind as you read._

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_Story:_

**_ Owner of a lonely heart._**

Chapter one. **They had grown up apart from each other.**

Woody stopped her. He wanted to talk about something else. Jordan looked at him, she didn't show any of her feelings, her mask was well adjusted, though her heart still raced due to his proximity. It was going to be hard to get over him.

"Jordan, I'm glad you are OK about, uh… you know… I just wish that you and I… I feel like lately we've grown apart, and I don't like it," he said, his words didn't seem to come easily.

"I don't think its so much we've grown apart, it's just… I don't know how to say this," she replied. She was somehow worried that he would find out that she wasn't fine. The way things had developed wasn't how she expected them to go. She had finally resolved that she wanted Woody in her life, she had turned JD down. Even though she had been distracted watching Kayla, she also had been waiting for him to be ready. Just to discover that he had moved on, with Lu.

That was fine. She would survive. She had always been able to survive.

"One word at a time." Woody suggested.

"I just think we're a little out of sync right now. Over the last year I've grown up a lot," she said. Even if she didn't believe it completely, it was true. She wasn't the same. She was still afraid to let someone get intimate, but she was now willing to give it a try. She wanted to live. She wanted to love someone.

JD had opened that door for her. She had really cared about him. Kayla was more of the same, her craving for something more than a lonely heart, being able to take care of somebody. She knew now that love was unselfish. She could love somebody, and that was the answer itself, giving love was the prize. She didn't need somebody to love her in response.

"And I haven't?" Woody asked her.

OK, that was too much to ask. She wasn't that altruistic. She needed to get away immediately. He was the only one she needed to love her in response, and he had turned her down.

Jordan moved to walk rapidly, hiding from him, but conserving her poised façade anyway. Her sad eyes reflected her state of heart.

Woody observed her walk away, she didn't answer him. What was implied? That he hadn't grown up?

Who was he trying to fool? He loved Jordan!

But she had moved on. She hadn't been troubled with him and Lu, so his answer was right there. She didn't love him, she loved the Aussie. She had grown up apart from him.

He watched her disappear down the hallway, as he sensed his hope was vanishing with her. His life would become really empty without that unbearable woman. However, he needed to survive. He could stand on Lu. She could help him to recover from his wreck.

But, Oh Lord!

How he missed Jordan already!


	2. I need your opium

**_Disclaimer: _**_I don't own Crossing Jordan, and I should really get over it, but it seems I can't._

**_Summary: _**_At the end of 'Mysterious Ways', Woody finally talks to Jordan. What were they really thinking? I plan to add some more chapters to this story. Life is unbearable when you can't face your demons, and love is really scaring._

**_A/N_**_: I had posted this as one-shot but now I'm thinking to develop an idea, so, I'm adding some chapters to it. I'm also publishing this in Spanish first, and then, I'm translating it to English. And again, no beta, tell me how I did it!_

**_Warning:_**_ This is supposed to be a story of healing and there's no actual healing without real suffering. You just have to touch the bottom, the very low end of life to begin upon new basis. It may content some mature scenes, sexually explicit, but mostly, I want to deal with the obscure side of soul._

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Chapter 2. **I need your opium**.

Woody's thoughts were that he could deal with this. He had been long wedded to a nonexistent hope. And yet, seeing her walk down the aisle, he felt as his soul cracked. The place was full of people coming and going, conversations that deafened the sound of her heels hitting the tiles. His heart was drumming the rhythm of her steps, replacing its cadence with an agonizing certainty – she was disappearing from his life.

It wasn't as she was physically disappearing, but the truth was that his friend had moved on. The strong bond that had always existed between them was vanishing.

What would become of them now?

He still loved her. Love wasn't something that disappeared overnight. Confidence could disappear, joy could disappear ... but love left a shadow that haunted souls.

Woody would have to learn to live under this shadow. He would have to stick to Lu. She could help him to lessen his burden. He would need to rebuild his life.

And the irony was that he still would have to see her every day. Jordan would continue to work for the Boston's morgue, and he still would be a cop from Homicides.

As Jordan crossed the doors of the precinct, he stomped toward his office. His heart beat wild, and a bitter sense of lack of self-control startled him. He needed to hide, to find shelter in his office. He slammed the door behind him when he arrived. Then, he collapsed on the chair, taking his face in his hands. The reality had become something unbearable. And if he were blind, deaf, or if the ground would swallow him right now, the pain might disappear. Or perhaps it just might be a little less intolerable.

Jordan didn't love him. She had just said it by her actions. And even though he so desired it, the care and friendship she felt for him, could never become the desire and need he felt for her.

At that moment the door was ajar, revealing Lu's shocked face peeping through it.

"Woody. You okay?" The blonde came closer to the defeated figure she had in front of her.

Woody listened as she walked toward him. He recognized immediately in her voice the drug that could numb his senses, like opium. Drugs had never been his thing, but he acknowledged this weakness.

He wanted to feel loved, accepted.

Lu could be his savior, the only thing that would separate him from totally forget everything about what he had fought so hard for. He had already lost his mother and his father, and truth to be told he had never quite known how to handle those losses. Cal also was gone. Life was a nuisance of loss and pain.

Jordan didn't love him.

Lu leaned in a bit, stroking his forehead with the palm of her hand. She tried to kiss him on the cheek, in an effort to comfort him with tenderness. At the time the woman's lips barely brushed against his face, he took her face violently with his hands, forcing a desperate encounter with his lips.

This was not a kiss. It was an act of anger for clinging to life. Woody got up from his chair, his mouth still sucking wildly while reaching for her waist. He yanked her to him; he wanted to feel her warm body over his dying one. He felt her erect nipples even across their clothes.

She was a promise, a refuge, a lie.

Yet, he wanted to live the lie because reality was killing him.

With their bodies pressed one against the other, even through clothing, skin felt vibrant and ready for the encounter. He pushed her toward the door. She didn't resist him. Perhaps it was the wonder, or perhaps he awakened in her an irresistible desire, almost animal, making her forget about her very controlled personality.

Always serious, always rational.

She had responded to his kiss passionately, almost as violently as he had taken her.

Woody forced her against the door, seeking to unbutton her pants, clumsily. His fingers slid down her exposed belly, and they got furiously below the single piece of fabric that still blocked his arrival at her wet center.

She knew that things couldn't be stopped, so, squashed against the door's glass as she was, unable to let go of his mouth, she struggled to put the lock to the door. Her arm twirled painfully to reach the handle, until after two attempts, she achieved her goal. The same instant he got his own one.

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	3. Lies also kill heart

**Warning.** If you're not old enough, or simply you don't like scenes where sex is too graphic, please don't continue reading . Normally, sex is wonderful, but it also expresses our emotional neediness. There's no doubt that we humans are always striving to unnecessarily complicate our lives.  
**A/N** .- Well, I debated a lot whether to post this piece or not. I wonder if it is really necessary that we confront our readers with the unpleasantness of our characters. Maybe we should just summarize it in an explanatory paragraph. But then you wouldn't know where their motives come from, their doubts, their mistakes, everything what makes us truly human. Anyway ... you have the last word.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter 3**. Lies also kill heart.**

Woody kept Lu captive against his office's glass door. In the space of a sigh he had stripped off her clothes, completely.  
His mouth didn't stop exploring her. Her saliva tasted like mint and salvation. He struggled with both, undoing his belt, pulling it desperately with one hand, while at the same time he heatedly massaged Lu's warm and smooth breasts with his other hand. He finally got rid of his pants that slid down along with his underwear. All his clothing had come to end around his ankles, entangling him, so he struggled to toss it away with his foot. Finally, his erect penis had been exposed. He bent his knees a little so he could push it between Lu's bare and firm tights.

She didn't make a single attempt to reject him.

On the contrary, the moans of pleasure she strove not to voice out loud so people outside wouldn't hear them, ignited him to continue. They were a further incentive to throw him into the maelstrom until it consumed him completely. He wasn't only accepted, but requested to accomplish anything that he desired. He suddenly leaned in to nibble her taut nipples, taking each one into his mouth and flicking them back, hastily, almost desperately. She arched forward eagerly, offering them to him, or rather compelling him to suck them.

He needed to know that he could really light someone on fire, that she could be totally his, even if that someone wasn't the woman he truly craved. Anyway, in his disturbed mind, Lu's smooth, white skin transfigured into Jordan's, equally soft and snowy-like. In his confused brain, even odors played him, because the blond woman smelled just like Jordan.

His tongue tasted her bare flesh, descending rapidly trough her belly's mid line toward her groin. There, he stopped to lick her a little, until he reached her clit. The salty, sweet taste was a delicacy that acted like a placebo, a medicine that relieved his gloomy heart.

Lu was Jordan, and Jordan was the only thing that made sense in his troubled world.

He took the bulge between his lips and sucked urgently, making her twist her body uncontrollably, like a contortionist. Finally, both of them fell down to the ground, against the glass door. They lay there, arched in a strange way. He introduced two fingers into her vagina. She was all wet, completely lubricated and ready for him. He moved his fingers inside her, traveling around her folds and hollows, and feeling her soft and slippery flesh on his inquisitive fingertips. This led him to the limit of his erection, making to maintain it at the edge painfully hard for him. He needed to vent it now. In a sudden move, he retrieved his fingers from the delicious hole he had been exploring, to grab her butt with both his hands and yank her toward him. She knew he was about to accomplish his mission then. However, even under the mayhem that she had been experiencing with him, she still had the nerve to ask for something, so, she bent forward a little so she could reach his ear.

With barely audible, panted voice, she said, "Woody ... the condom."  
The words reached him like a breeze of icy air. He suddenly realized that she wasn't the one he had been fantasizing. The voice was unmistakable. Jordan's beautiful, long dark hair transformed abruptly into the blonde woman he really had in front of him. Her face, and even her smell, also changed brusquely. A hit of reality struck him, leaving him breathless.  
It wasn't her.  
Yet, an irrational call to finish what he had started assaulted him. He was already on the edge of the cliff, his feet barely clinging to the shore. He had to jump. With his eyes tight closed, he had to feel the void in his stomach. He had to intoxicate him with her, pour his bitterness in her, get consumed by her.  
He managed to bring his pants near him quickly and dig out a condom from a pocket. Lu snatched it from him and tore the wrapper with her teeth. Already in her hands, she deployed it gently on his erection, stroking it up and down, and vice versa. She took a few moments to enjoy it. This had been her only chance to participate actively. But even if she wanted to prolong the contact of his penis with her hand, Woody interrupted her, moving to stay on top of her. He put his knees both sides of her body, on the cold tiles. The same tiles where the beautiful, naked women lay on.  
He made her surrender to him with one of his hands on her bare shoulder, commanding her not to move, while with the other hand he adjusted her hips to him.

It only took one second to him to inhale a large breath, holding it in his lungs - like a diver about to sink – as he made his strong entrance. Inside her, the air escaped from him in a low growl. She arched, pushing her pubis against him, a willingly accessory to his impetuous movement. With hard shoves, he penetrated her, moving in and out several times, exhaling low growls, as if he intended to break her. Unusually, Woody´s ferocious rush made Lu feel terribly excited. She never felt her heart galloping almost out of her chest like this, or her skin so electrified. Her vagina had never been contracting so often and so involuntarily.

With one last and violent assault, he let go of him, the world disappeared for an endless instant. His body smashed against the rocks when he finally hit them in the fall.  
The world was anger, and he let out a final, stifled howl.  
As she felt him come inside her, the climax hit her too, drowning her in waves of pleasure. She achieved to placate a cry by biting off his pants that lay beside her.  
It was all over.  
Lu planted a loving kiss on his cheek when Woody's face ended up resting on the floor, next to her. From her point of view, this had been a magical encounter, exciting, the proof that this wonderful man was beginning to truly love her. While he was in a very sensitive moment, he had come after her, giving him to her completely... Lu still couldn't wonder where his courage had came from, but perhaps later, with a cool mind, she might begin to recognize Woody's reasons and urgency to have her. For now, her high education, her common sense, her undeniable intelligence didn't help her to understand what really had occurred.  
Love was blind, deaf, and to top it, it also invented.  
Lu's kiss burned on Woody's cheek, it had been the last thing he had expected in his actual situation. At the same time, emotional hangover overwhelmed him. Shame surfaced, within the chaos of emotions that had taken over him. Lu didn't deserve such treatment. Yet, she wanted him that way, with his damaged soul.  
Maybe he could learn how to love her ...  
However, he immediately realized his deception. Lu was his lie, and as some truths did, lies also killed heart.


	4. Wine and Blood

Chapter 4. **Wine and Blood**.

Jordan still had the towel wrapped around her head. The bath she had taken earlier hadn't helped her much to wipe away the stress that overwhelmed her. She still felt her nerves entangled and her muscles tensed. She took out the towel, leaving it on a chair, and dried off her hair by shaking her head softly. She let her hair rest, still drenched, over her shoulders, soaking her pajamas. Then, she poured herself a glass of wine, the fourth, or maybe the fifth glass of that infamous night. The dark and crimson liquid that reached the top of the transparent glass hypnotized her for a while. If it not were for its contrasting fluidity and its characteristic odor, she would have thought it was coagulated blood. She stirred the glass in soft circles under her nose at the time that she took a big breath of air to get the aroma and make sure that it wasn't really blood. She sipped from the glass and saved the wine in the hole of her mouth for a moment, savoring it. Taste buds hadn't yet been numbed by the effects of alcohol. She still was in control.

She left the glass on the kitchen counter, and grabbed a picture from there. It was one of those pictures you can get from a machine outside subway stations. She watched the photo, longing the moment it preserved, and tapped it with the pad of her index finger over JD's face, who was at her side, smiling.

Both of them seemed very happy in that photo.

She sighed sadly, the memory of that day when she and JD had been at the photo machine by the subway resurfaced clearly in her mind, she could even hear their laughing quite loudly. The handsome man had her lovingly embraced, his arm around her waist -- so much familiarity in that single act. Jordan bit her lips, struggling to suppress the ache that hit her heavily on the guts.

"_Come on, Cavanaugh." He pulled her towa__rd the cabin of the photo's machine._

"_What? No, no. Do you think I'm fifteen?" she protested as she pulled away toward the opposite direction, shooting him an amused, bewildered look._

"_Oh, don't be such a __spoilsport. I promise it'll be fun!" He put some money in the slot's machine as he turned to throw her a devilish glance._

_She frowned -- though her expression was rather amused-- wondering what this wicked man was planning to do to her.__ Although the invitation appealed to her, she either couldn't stop her from thinking that this was such a bad 'Valentine's' cliché, and just the idea of volunteering made her feel embarrassed._

_Though she still was complaining, __JD managed to bring her with him into the tiny interiors the cabin of the photo's machine offered to them. He grabbed a seat on the bench as he tugged her by the waist to make her sit on his lap._

_The lights of the camera surprised them laughing, capturing the moment shot after shot. When it stopped, JD took advantage of their actual situation and kissed her feverishly. Although at first__ it was a stolen kiss, Jordan ended cooperating with him passionately. _

'_Who'd have tho__ught that being a Valentine's cliché would turn up to feel so wonderfully!' feeling butterflies in her stomach…_

Jordan discarded the photo on the kitchen counter and grabbed the glass of wine again. She walked toward the couch while she drank a large amount of the red liquid, collapsing on the seat when she reached it. Some drops scattered the floor and she glanced at them distractedly. She turned back to think how oddly similar they were to droplets of old blood.

Jordan scanned her apartment with a nervous look, bit her lips… A bitter sigh escaped from her as she struggled to retain from falling the tears that were gathering in her eyes. They were already clouding her view.

Suddenly, the room appeared to be painfully empty! Maybe, things would have turned differently if she hadn't given in to Woody's charm, throwing all she had with JD the instant Woody gave her a tiny taste of love… if she would have taken the right decisions. The dammed question that had tormented her since she saw him earlier this day, returned to torture her again.

"_And I haven't?" _

_Woody's deep blue__ eyes staring at her, expectantly. _

She needed to stop clinging to the hope that he would love her after negating his attempts to get to her for so long. She had closed the door to him way too many times, and it was only logical he would have moved on with Lu. It was just too painful to realize their chance would have vanished like smoke. Suddenly, breathing became difficult as a blow of anxiety slapped her. She couldn't fight it anymore and began to sob uncontrollably. One by one, her tears were pouring her hope off her soul, and filling it with harsh loneliness.

When she regained some sort of self control, she stared again at the glass of wine and realized it was almost empty. She raised it to her mouth and gulped the drink hastily.

Her head was spinning, her body was numbing, her eyes were coming really heavy… the alcohol was already making its move on her.

She left the glass on the floor and snuggled herself on the couch, drawing her knees up against her belly and her arms around her chest. She closed her eyes and surrendered to emotional fatigue, her heart completely barren.

Things in her mind started to get confused. JD, wine, blood, Woody, the empty apartment.

JD's face smiling from an old photograph, decayed from the act of time on the paper.

Red wine, drops of blood scattered on the floor.

Red blood, Woody.

Woody.

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	5. Sometimes, the obvious misleads us

**_A/N_**_.- Though I was influenced by a note of The Boston Globe, everything I write is fictional. Any similarities with real life are merely coincidences. _

_Enjoy!_

Chapter 5. **Sometimes, the obvious misleads us.**

The cold and rainy morning matched her mood. Jordan let the pouring rain soak wet her clothes, without giving a damn about it. She approached steadily to the docks, clicking the heels of her boots on the slippery tiles. She stalked past the crowd which gathered behind the fence that police had set up to keep them out of the crime scene. Ducking under the yellow tape in one mastered move, she let herself in. She had to show her badge to one rookie, because he didn't know her. She continued walking determinedly, until she saw a very familiar figure approaching her, running to catch up with her with an umbrella on his hands. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt a lump in her throat, but she didn't stop her pace. Despite the effect he produced on her, Jordan remained unperturbed, not letting anyone know what was happening to her.

"Jordan," Woody covered her quickly with the umbrella, while he gripped her right arm gently with his hand as a way to greeting her.

"Hi," she responded with an almost imperceptible nod. She wasn't smiling. She only had a calm and indecipherable expression on her face.

Woody's body stroked hers unintentionally and unexpectedly as they made their way toward the crime scene.

"Oh God, you're all wet. You'll catch your death of cold," he said worriedly, watching her slick, watery hair dripping onto her beige raincoat.

She shrugged her shoulders as she sighed. "I lost my umbrella, I couldn't find the cap of my raincoat, and I warn you, I'm not justifying for being late, but I got a flat tire just outside my house. I was beginning to think I had gotten up on the wrong foot when a friendly taxi driver offered to change the tire. I must have looked pathetic in the rain and trying to maneuver it all by myself," she related, trying to appear indifferent to the constant rubbing of their bodies as they strolled along together down the docks under the shelter of the umbrella. However, her heart beat wild. To complete her misfortune, Woody was the detective designated to her job. She had just experienced a horrible night, plenty of nightmares, completely uncomfortable after crashing on the couch of her apartment. She had been unable to process her feelings properly. Her head reeled with the effects of alcohol hangover and emotional pain, making her suffer a terrible headache, despite the painkillers she had taken at home to suppress the ache.

Who said love only hurt soul!

Every inch of her body ached for him, and because of him, and she couldn't do anything about it.

"How awful! You should have called me for a ride." Woody looked at her, his expression showed something between distress and guilt.

Jordan turned around and stared at him, surprised. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your _morning activities_, and I had no idea you were gonna be here. Did you ask for me specifically? Because if you did it, I need you to stop doing that. It makes me feel uncomfortable."

Woody flashed her one astonished, bewildered glance. He didn't expect such an energetic reply. He frowned and held his breath for one second, but recovered quickly. He took her arm gently again, forcing her to be still for a moment.

"What! We're not friends anymore?" he said softly, looking lovingly into her eyes.

"We'll always be, Woody. But I believe that Lu won't be so happy if you keep calling me to attend to your cases. Things have changed." Her answer was firm and serene, quite the opposite of what really boiled in the pit of her stomach. 'Damn! Can you stop doing this? Stop making me feel like I melt at your touch, that I need you to kiss me right now! That I need your scent washing over me so I can feel safe. That I want you to love me like I need air in my lungs...' Jordan' emotions wrestled to surface but she managed to hold them all at bay, controlled.

For a fleeting moment, Woody seemed as though he was a helpless child. He threw his shoulders slightly forward, crestfallen. His eyes had a sad, powerlessness shine.

Jordan's heart sank, recognizing that she had hurt him. However, she needed to survive, so, she continued with her masquerade, unruffled.

Woody drew his attention to the people at the crime scene, pretending to check on their work. By the time he turned to look at her again, he was the confident man he had always been -- almost arrogant -- master of the situation.

"Sorry. It won't happen again," he promised, nonchalantly.

He put a hand on the small of her back and led her gently toward the corpse. She walked under his lead, uncomplaining.

Next to one of the white boats that swarmed the docks, on the wet floor, lay the body of a lifeless white boy. Woody stopped at his side and handed the umbrella to Jordan for her to hold it. Then, he dug out his notebook from the pocket of his raincoat and started his telling.

"Thomas Richmond. Sixteen. Lived at the neighborhood. He left his home on Saturday evening. His father reported him missing Sunday afternoon. A resident found him floating near his boat today. He recognized the boy immediately, but said he was already dead when he pulled him out of the water. It's very sad… his father and his sister are shocked; I haven't been able to speak to them. The boy's friends began arriving almost immediately. Everyone agrees he was a good boy, played soccer, and everyone enjoyed his company. He made everybody laugh. No enemies. But…" he paused to point out a hole in the boy's head, which showed the entrance of a bullet and that seemed an execution-style-kill, on the center of the forehead. "I don't wan to state the obvious here, but it could be the cause of death."

Jordan called one of the officers near her and gave him the umbrella. She put her briefcase on the wooden ground, took the gloves out from her raincoat and fit them to her hands while she crouched over the body and started to examine him, under Woody's impassive watch.

After a while, she said, "Well, Woody, sometimes the obvious misleads us. It's true that there are no visible signs of trauma. It appears that he didn't struggle to defend himself. And I agree that gunshot to the head might be the more feasible cause of death. But..." she paused to emphasize her remark, "there isn't evidence of bleeding."

"And that means ..." he exhorted her to explain.

"Well, he was dead before he got shot. Though, I can't be sure until I perform the autopsy, because the salty water could have completely washed off the blood and cauterized the wound."

Jordan stood up quickly and called the team to move the body away. She accompanied them to the morgue truck. The officer that held the umbrella for her followed her on her heels, protecting her from the pouring rain.

Woody stayed at the crime scene, gazing sadly at her. He watched her disappear down the crowd behind the yellow tape. He had a defeated attitude, accentuated by the rain that fell down on him freely.

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_I need some feedback, so, would you please stop a little and tell me if you like or don't like the story so far?_


	6. Don’t come back to where you were happy

Chapter 6. **Don't come back to where you were happy once.**

The morning was beautiful, and the bright blue sky made a big difference with yesterday's merciless rain. The cool and invigorating breeze caressed Jordan's face as she gained ground. She jogged slowly, keeping a firm and steady pace, moving up the boardwalk that ran along the seawall. The same boardwalk she used to run along with Woody, in happier times. Alcohol hadn't done much to make her feel less miserable, and a yearning to feel better had her in an attempt to get endorphins with exercise.

Happiness was a complex state of the body and the spirit. It was a series of chemicals that ran across our vital fluids and that were the result of a welcoming environment of love and security. If you couldn't have that, well, there were only palliatives. Alcohol and drugs might help to numb hurt. Exercise, chocolates and wild sex might help to release endorphins - the chemicals of happiness. For now, exercise would have to do, because she wasn't very fond of food calories. Alcohol and drugs interfered with her work, and more important, the consequences were worse than love disease. And sex ... well, there wasn't a plausible candidate yet to practice it.

Jordan was distracted listening to music on her iPod. So far, the exercise had served its purpose, providing her with a comfortable bubble that isolated her from pain. At that moment, being alone with herself was even enjoyable. Submerged in such a peaceful state, her mind got engaged in her latest case. While yesterday she performed three autopsies, the only one she could think of was that of this poor kid ... Thomas. She had two reasons to be thinking on Thomas' case. The first and most obvious was that it was homicide, and Woody was the detective assigned to it. As morbid as it seemed, it was a bond that kept them together. He had specifically requested her, like he used to, and that simple act still gave her hope. Not all people grew at the same time, she had matured enough to recognize she loved him, but he might still need some space and time.  
On the other hand, there was Thomas' family -- his father and sister. Yesterday, they had gone to the morgue to identify the body, and as it always was in these kinds of cases, it had been a heartbreaking experience. A boy with his life disrupted in such an early stage. He surely would have turned to be as handsome and sweet as his father was. Although she was right to assume that Thomas was dead before the gunshot hit him on the head, the shot still obscured the case. Jordan expected to receive the drug test later that day. It might provide some light as to what could have caused the boy's death. Why would anyone have wanted to deceive the cause of death? The caliber of the bullet and the style of the shooting showed the relentless hand of mafia; even the fact that the boy's body had been recovered from the river confirmed it. However, it had been such a slippery procedure, that there was no way it could have been a professional killing job. The kid had no criminal records, and he came from a loving and supporting upper middle-class family.

She and Woody were going to visit Thomas' father later, on this afternoon. They might find some clues as to what could have occurred into the boy's life.

The later issue had her anxious. Woody. He was around her every day like he had always been -- such a sweet and nice guy-- a kindly friend. Yet, he was so excruciatingly out of her hand. It was so confusing to wait the minute of the day he would appear just to hope he wouldn't have showed up at all. It was too painful, wondering if the fact he would keep calling her to attend to his cases would mean something, that there would be something yet to rescue.

The music on her iPod kept her isolated from surrounding noise, but a headset suddenly slid from her ear and when it fell down it got entangled in her clothes. She stopped for a moment to fix it, the same moment she heard an all too familiar laugh. Her heart skipped a beat. Turning her head from side to side, she sought the source of that laughing. She didn't know if her deranged mind was tricking her. Much to her distress, she quickly noticed that, about ten yards ahead of her, a couple was running down the same boardwalk.  
Woody and Lu.  
She saw Lu playing with him, tickling him on the ribs teasingly, in an attempt to distract him from the exercise. He acted as if nothing happened, jogging unmindfully, until he finally trapped her waist and tugged her to him, amused. Jordan set to slip out of their sight behind a hot dog cart, but she kept her eyes keenly focused on everything they did. Her heart raced in her breast.

Then, she saw him kissing her, sweet and long.

Jordan felt her vision blurring, recalling the moment she caught them kissing in his office. But now it wasn't surprise what struck her, but the raw certainty that she had lost him. He had already found someone better and less twisted than her. It wasn't the same, knowing that he was with somebody else than watching him on a furtive, everyday moment of his blissful relationship. A blow of reality slapped her on the guts and an overwhelming claim to disappear embraced her. She had to run, seeking for shelter.

'You don't com back to visit places where you were happy once! And, why did he bring Lu to travel the same places that were hers with him alone?!' Those harsh emotions boiled in her soul as she ran.

Jordan flew the opposite direction from them. Tears fell down her cheeks without ceremony over her clothes, wetting her – her chest was oppressed by hurt and despair.

A sole idea consumed her…

She had lost him.

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	7. Faraway, so close!

Chapter 7. **Faraway, so close!**

Woody was searching with the eye Jordan's car among the cars that swarmed along the vicinity of Boston's Marriot, on Long Wharf Street. This was one of those neighborhoods where, without being too presumptuous, people lived pretty well.

Mr. Richmond --Thomas' father—had to be a wealthy man, given the price of the apartments in this quarter. The particular address was in a building that overlooked the docks. People around the area walked unmindful of other people, coming and going across the Commercial Wharf, taking a seat on one of the chairs of the outdoor restaurants, or going to grab a cab at the corner of the hotel. Locals and tourists alike mingled on this pleasant spring afternoon. It appeared like a good place to grow up, surrounded by culture, entertainment and a magnificent landscape.

Leaning against the hood of his car, Woody had been able to appreciate the view for a while as Jordan hadn't showed up yet. He was reluctant to openly admit it, but this interview had him a bit nervous. And it wasn't the case, since it wasn't likely to become a high profile case. This, though sad, was a fairly common situation wrapped in a shroud of forced mystery. Jordan had sought to convince him there was a conspiracy surrounding the death of the boy.

Jordan being Jordan.

She, on the other hand, was exactly what troubled him. Their relationship had become too formal. Jordan had kept a distance that bordered on avoidance. If it wasn't for the case, he wouldn't even know anything about what was going on with her on these days.

For him, things had become way too complicated. Although he really cared about Lu, and he couldn't deny the strong sexual attraction she arose in him, it hadn't been enough to ward off thoughts of Jordan. He had been waiting all day for this moment, to meet her. Her wild goose chase had given him the perfect excuse. However, she still was eluding him. Arguing that Garrett had asked her a last minute favor, he had driven there alone. And here he was now, waiting for her to arrive.

Finally, he saw her appearing among the crowd. Her beautiful and slim figure stood out from it, clad in jeans and a thick woolen coat, her dark hair floating over her shoulders. She walked determinedly toward the building with the secure, rhythmic step that had always characterized her.

A tumult of conflicting emotions dazed him at the sight of her: joy, a throbbed excitement, pain, confusion, helplessness, frustration, anger ... but love swelled among them all. Yet he knew all too well that he had to hide it deep down his being because he had been hurt too many times with her indifference.

Nevertheless, he couldn't avoid an uncontrollable desire to touch her, to feel her close to him, to hear her voice again. So he rushed to catch up with her at the entrance of the building.

"Jordan, I thought you weren't gonna make it. Any problem? "He reached her from behind and touched her right shoulder affectionately as a way to greeting her. He could swear he felt her trembling slightly during their contact.

"Woody! I didn't see you, "she justified her shakiness. She glanced at him with incredible sad eyes, and her pain ripped a hole in his soul. But Jordan's stance immediately changed to that indecipherable appearance -- calm and impassive -- that had troubled him lately.

"Well, after I saw Garret, Lily needed to tell me something about the wedding. She offered to bring me here while she talked so I could be on time. Now I regret it because frankly, I would have come faster driving my car. She's so terribly slow! But I'm here now ... shall we go in?" She concluded as she crossed the door. He followed her on her heels.

They stepped into the elevator, and in the small space of the cube, the sense of her proximity became overwhelming to Woody. He hungered to hold her close and feel her soft, warm skin caressing him; he craved to perceive the fragrance of her perfume mixed with her own, unmistakable scent. But she, with just across the distance between the elevator's walls, had built a yawning gap that seemed coldly calculated. Her ceremonious demeanor hadn't had anything to do with the heavy jokes she usually played him. And it all was incredibly painful -- their faded intimacy.

To be so close and yet so faraway.

"I have Thomas' tox-screen," Jordan began disclosing to him her advances on the case, without allowing that any personal matters would infiltrate into their conversation. "It confirmed cocaine, but not a dangerous amount. It couldn't have been the cause of death. It seems as if his heart had just stopped working."

"Are you absolutely sure that the shot didn't kill him? It is unlikely that a sixteen year old boy dies suddenly because his heart _just stopped_. If he didn't overdose or anything like that, then how do you explain his death?" If this was her game, he knew how to play it pretty well --denial and coldness. Survival was all that counted.

At the time the elevator's doors opened, Jordan stalked toward Richmond's apartment, followed closely by Woody. "That is exactly what we'll find out in a moment, leave it to me," she answered as she rang the bell.

"I am the cop, remember?" He snorted. For the moment, staying unruffled was something that he still failed to manage. The passionate emotions he had been experiencing around her turned brusquely into anger and frustration. He passed a hand over the base of his neck, trying to control himself, and averted his eyes from her for one second -- the jaw tensed. He finally returned to stare wearingly at her.

She looked calmed, but a fleeting glint in her eyes betrayed her. In that instant, Woody could see the tremendous battle she was fighting within her. It confused him enormously and threw him into an abyss of anxiety. What did it mean? What was she trying to hide?

Just then, the door opened. The tall and contrite figure of Thomas' father was revealed. Jordan and Woody assumed immediately their official roles, becoming the Detective and the ME. With a clearly studied smile, Woody greeted him and walked into the apartment. "Mr. Richmond, good afternoon. Thanks for receiving us. "

Jordan just nodded as she went after him.

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	8. Soul in Grief

Chapter 8. **Soul in Grief.**

Sat on the luxurious leather sofa of Richmond's apartment, Jordan eyed Woody sneakily. He was inspecting carelessly the vast bookshelves that surrounded the place. He stopped to read the book titles or to grab one of the art trimmings that adorned the shelves. There were art figures, paintings and reproductions of archeological objects, mixed with family photos. A few steps from the huge window that overlooked the docks, there was a beautiful black, baby grand piano. The diaphanous evening light came through the window, pouring down with clarity the spacious interiors of the apartment. While Jordan conducted her own direct examination to Thomas' father, Woody took a moment to observe in detail one of the family photographs.

"Thomas was a loving child. He had a caring heart, and he was also very smart. He knew all too well the tricks of getting involved with drugs. We talked a lot about it. I don't understand at what point this could happen!" Richmond answered to a question Jordan had done to him. He was tall, slender and athletic. His temple had started to plate with silvery white hair, revealing a mature man with little over forty years. His face showed the grief he had been going through, deep sorrow that had drawn evident lines on his forehead. However, it was also noticeable – behind his eyeglasses-- the beauty of his blue, harmonious eyes. There was a glint that exhibited his brilliant intelligence and emphasized his attractive look of intellectuality.

"For boys of Thomas' age, drugs are always a risk. They want to fit, to be part of a group. The group pressures them, they are under constant challenging. But, the amount of cocaine found in his body wasn't enough, it couldn't have caused his death," Jordan told the mournful father. "Was he sick? Something that his medical records didn't mention? Was he taking any medicine that could be contraindicated?"

"Well, his records were probably incomplete. You know? We moved to Boston five years ago, when I got my faculty position at Suffolk University." The man sighed sadly as he regained his voice to continue talking. "When he was six, he was very sick. Lymphoblastic leukemia. But the illness was spotted just in time and he received a prompt treatment. He beat it completely. It can't be…" He couldn't finish the sentence; his voice broke and let down any effort he could be doing at maintaining his strength. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Jordan stared at him sympathetically, and waited a few moments for him to be ready again. She moved, perching herself at the edge of the sofa. She reached the man's hand --that sat opposite to her-- with her own hands, taking him in an affectionate hold, attempting to convey him a bit of her own strength. While she couldn't imagine the tragedy that must be losing a son, she looked Tragedy in the eye everyday in every one of the people that visited a beloved relative or a friend at the morgue, and in all the victims that couldn't defend themselves or claim for justice anymore. She knew very well what a friendly hand could mean to a mourning father.

Meanwhile, Woody cast her one loving gaze. His heart hurt because he recognized how much he loved Jordan's ability to identify with the victim. The young dark-haired was the most generous – let alone beautiful — human being he had ever known. He felt his body filled with fury, enough to fight a thousand tides, to restore the faith in humanity his adored woman needed so badly right now. He would find the murderer, and he would be sure that the bastard got punished.

When the man calmed, and Jordan felt his grip relaxing, she asked him, her voice filled with warmly reassurance, "Dylan, do you remember if one of the drugs your son took in his treatment was something like anthracyclines? Perhaps Adryamicine?"

Professor Dylan Richmond opened his eyes widely, astonished, a myriad of emotions assaulted him at once. He retrieved his hand from Jordan's kind hold, and rubbed it against his leg, nervously. "Adryamicine? Yes, it was one of his medicines. Why? How did you…?"

"Because, these kinds of chemotherapy drugs were recently found to cause muscular heart damage to the left ventricle, to some of the people treated with it. It could even cause cardiomyophaty. That, combined with cocaine, could cause heart to fail, like it did in Thomas'. However, it still remains the shot to the head, a bogus fact that the killer might have planted to deviate the course of the investigation. To make us believe that the drug was something incidental," Jordan explained.

"Professor Richmond." Woody considered that moment the right one to intervene, "Could you tell us if your son experienced strange behavior lately? Abrupt changes of mood? Something that you found funny or not like him? …"

"I don't know. I thought everything was under control. I went to every soccer game he played, to his school meetings, helped him out with his schoolwork… we even talked about girls he liked," Richmond said, sincerely confused.

Woody took back from the shelve, the picture he had been studying a while ago, and showed it to Richmond, querying, "In this photo, your son must have had, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

The other man simply nodded as a way to replying.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but here with him we can see you, his sister, and ¿his mother?" Woody added, pointing to the good looking woman that had the boy kindly embraced.

"Yes. Liz. She died in a car accident, a year ago." Richmond hung his head. "I know where you're heading to, Detective. It's true that Liz's death affected us in unimaginable ways… I adored her. We mourned her immensely. But honestly, I thought we were coping with it remarkably well… Do you think I didn't see the signs? That mourning the death of my wife blinded me? My son started to get high to escape from reality, and I didn't notice it?" He ended talking with a hoarse, stifled voice.

"We need to find out who supplied him with the cocaine. At school, friends, neighbors, your daughter, ask everyone that knew him. I know this must be very hard for you, Professor, but you have to cooperate with us, try to remember everything, any tiny detail, even if you think that it's unrelated." Woody took his notebook from his coat pocket as he sat on the sofa, next to Jordan.

Though sad, that was a moment he treasured. Feeling the warm and comforting proximity of the amazing woman seated next to him, he was at home.

Half an hour passed, writing down all possible leads, connections, addresses, data that could help. When there wasn't anything else to do there, Woody and Jordan said goodbye to Richmond, assuring him that they would make everything they could possibly do to clarify Thomas' death. At the corridor, they still were discussing the possibilities and actions to follow.

Just outside the elevator, walking toward the building's entrance, Woody gripped Jordan kindly by the arm, with the same familiarity he was so used to do it. "Where do I drive you? Home? Or the morgue? You left your car there, didn't you?"

Jordan shuddered at his touch and answered a little tense, "Oh, no Woody, don't worry. Lily is coming to pick me up. I know you have other things to do. I'll call you tomorrow, when we know more about the gun." She was avoiding, at all costs, being alone with him. She might not be able to keep feigning unaffected by him, and truth was that she began to feel weak at his nearness.

Woody frowned and threw her an unconvinced stare. Up to that moment, he had been fantasizing with the idea of being with Jordan, alone. He wanted to talk to her about the stuff he really cared. However, her cold and guarded attitude discouraged him, one more time. "Are you sure? I have nothing more important to do. I can give you a ride," he insisted sweetly, looking sadly into her eyes, scrutinizing her.

Jordan felt disarmed, so she elevated at once her entire shield. She had never been so close to give in to her irresistible desire to be with him. But she forced herself to remember that he didn't love her. He had chosen another woman. She would have to bury her hopes, so she wouldn't get hurt again. "Really, don't worry. Lily should be here any minute. I call you tomorrow."

Woody knew that he wasn't going to succeed; maybe it was _her_ the one who had _plans_…"Alright then." He gave her a goodbye kiss on the cheek that sent shivers down her spine.

She watched him walk away, sorrowfully, shedding a betrayal tear that she whipped off hastily.

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	9. And Life goes on

Chapter 9. **And Life goes on**.

Jordan stood quietly, few steps away from Richmond's building. She felt an overwhelming loneliness, even when there were bunches of people surrounding her.

Gradually, people started to leave the place, heading back home. Daylight faded and it was promptly replaced by the electric light of the street lamps. Shadows acquired a new, sharper and elongated dimension, almost eerie. Cold air began to tighten when the night finally arrived.

Lily wasn't going to show up. That was an excuse Jordan had made up so she could avoid being alone with Woody.

Sadness hung heavily on her heart. While her mind had accepted the idea of Woody's relationship, her soul still couldn't accept the loss. It wasn't her the one he loved, and yet, she loved him helplessly.

Love hurt too much.

Her body felt lifeless, unwilling to move. Time passed indefinitely, and the only thing she could manage to do was watch the lights of the cars riding the street – without actually seeing them. She had nowhere to go, her apartment was an empty and cold place that served only to go and crash on the couch -- if she could only get to sleep without the help of alcohol.

There she was, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, when somebody pushed her back hard enough as to snap her out of her reverie. She rolled on her feet, mechanically, to see what had happened. Maybe, if it had turned out to be a stranger, she wouldn't have even cared, but it was Dylan Richmond the one that had actually bumped into her, accidentally.

He seemed like a man possessed, inattentive to his surroundings. He hadn't realized yet that in his impetuous advance, he had collided with her. Both –Jordan and Dylan – looked at each other, puzzled, a fleeting instant that would change their lives.

Jordan acknowledged in the eyes of Thomas' grieving father, the deadly flame she had seen in other eyes.

In Woody's, with his gun threatening dangerously Riggs' head, determination and irrationality were about to consume him in one millisecond. He had been so close to lose himself by pulling the trigger and killing the offender.

In her own eyes, hunting Redding, when answering her questions was all that mattered, and crossing the entire country or dragging Woody on her quest seemed like tiny obstacles.

Dylan suddenly reacted and was about to continue with his frantic run -- without even bothering to apologize, or explaining his rush – when Jordan gripped his arm firmly.

"Dylan, wait!" she blurted out, still holding him tight. Strength came back to her, inexplicably. It was perhaps, that she had found a_ mission_.

The man tried to pull away, without being too brusque. He had recognized her, and that had restored some common sense to his actions. "Let go of me!" he said almost pleadingly.

However, she held him strongly. It was incredible that she could keep someone as big and muscular as Dylan trapped, but it wasn't physical strength what won out this time. "What are you trying to do? Where are you going?" she demanded him.

"I can't…Let go… Gotta go…" he struggled with both, words and conflicting emotions, until something clicked inside of him, and his furious determination returned. He shook her off him and pulled away, stalking violently toward a car parked on the street. He unlocked the car remotely with his key, and as soon as the beep was heard, Jordan managed to climb in it, landing on the copilot seat, just behind Dylan.

He glared at her, started the engine and stepped on it. "Okay. I won't pretend that I care about you. I have to find out who killed Thomas, and if you get in my way, you're only going to get hurt."

"You know something, don't you!?! You didn't tell us everything!" Jordan threw him a scolding stare, recognizing the concealment in the eyes of the man. Nonetheless, she adjusted her seat belt and prepared for whatever it would take to follow him in his chase.

After a few seconds of awkward and oppressive silence, the tormented man finally answered, "Look ... I didn't hide anything, but I couldn't wait to tell you either... I didn't remember it until you left," he began disgustedly, "somebody called on Saturday morning looking for Thomas. Erin, my daughter, answered it. Thomas snatched the phone from her, thing I didn't find strange at the time because you know how things are with siblings of that age ..." Dylan swerved the car violently, in an attempt to avoid hitting a motorcycle that suddenly appeared at a corner. The car tires squeaked when he accelerated again, continuing his way. "I looked up the number in the phone memory and I found that the code was from the area of Dorchester. I called the number, but nobody answered. Then, I called Erin… she's staying with my sister. I can't let her…" He seemed to be justifying that he had pushed her daughter out of his life for the moment. He shook his head in disapproval. Maybe it was himself to whom he was having a discussion. "Anyway… she told me the guy's name. Driscoll. And then I remembered." Dylan passed his left hand across his forehead, wiping the cold sweat. He waited impatiently for the traffic light to turn green. "It must be Howard Driscoll. He lives near Blue Hill. "

"Who is this Howard Driscoll?" Jordan managed to ask before a new speed hit smashed her against the seat. She held herself as well as she could, because even with the safe belt on her, the maneuvering that Dylan was making with the car had her bouncing from side to side. Too much adrenaline that oozed up for gasoline.

"A new boy from Thomas' school. I drove him twice to his home after their soccer game. It's a lonely boy. He must know something." He said, his jaw so tight that Jordan could hear his teeth grinding.

"What are you gonna do when we arrive there? Threaten him? That's police work." She lectured him.

Dylan stopped abruptly and parked between two cars on the street, miraculously managing to avoid hitting them. "We'll find out in a minute, because we've arrived." He drew his attention to Jordan and ordered her, with a menacing attitude, "You stay here. This is my business."

She replied nonchalantly, as she unfastened her seat belt, "Perhaps I should warn you that I don't follow orders very well."

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	10. Do you have an apprentice already?

Chapter 10. **Do you have an apprentice already?**

A rage swept over Dylan. He got off the car fuming, but his rudeness didn't intimidate her a bit. Jordan followed him closely. He opened the house's metal door of the fence surrounding the place. The house in question was at the end of the street they had arrived, at the corner, giving front to two intersecting streets. There was an old sedan parked on the yard, where once must have been a beautiful garden. However, the only traces of vegetation that could be seen nowadays were the bushes next door. There were no lights inside of any of the windows; people in the building were apparently sleeping. There was only a streetlight illuminating the area, its dim light barely served to distinguish nocturnal forms.

They climbed up the porch stairs in a heartbeat, and Dylan was about to ring the bell while banging on the door, trying to call the attention of whoever might be inside, when it gave away. It was open from the beginning. Jordan took his arm firmly to stop him from entering.

"Wait," she whispered, peeping inside the house suspiciously.

He struggled to break from her grip, muttering, "Let me go! We need to get this straightened out once and for all, I warn you ..."

At that moment, a loud whistle burst into the night's silence. A bullet had just flown between their heads. She pulled him out of the house while another bullet snapped past them. He covered her with his body and threw himself to the ground, trying to protect them both from another forthcoming gunshot. They stumbled down the stairs and landed harshly between the base of the stairs and one side of the car. A third shot discouraged them from attempting to rise from the ground. A few seconds later, silence prevailed. Then, they heard a window's crystal breaking and someone cursing, some steps in frantic race, and finally, grinding wheels. A car had left the scene.

Dylan stood up and ran hastily to the side of the house that faced to the other street, followed closely by Jordan.

"Damn! What was that?" He cried out desperately when he realized that their attacker had disappeared as the car was turning down the end of the street. He messed with his hair, both hands combing it in frustration, and then he stared in that direction for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

Meanwhile, Jordan walked into the house and turned on the living room light. She witnessed a disturbing scene. Sprawled on the white tiles, a woman lay on her stomach in a pool of blood.

"Oh God!" Jordan exclaimed and rushed to see if she was still alive, kneeling down beside her and trying to find her pulse. The hurt woman moaned weakly and barely moved her right arm. A confused Dylan came in and knelt by the two women, not knowing how to help.

"Call an ambulance! She's still alive." Jordan yelled at him. He pulled out his cell phone and did what she had asked, calling 911.

Jordan assessed the state of the women and found a bullet hole on her back. The woman was having troubles breathing and her pulse was vanishing, so Jordan tried to turn her around. Dylan helped her out the best he could. Then, Jordan started CPR on her. The woman's pulse returned and she started to breath again. Dylan was white as a ghost, truly panicked.

"Dylan, help me. Press strongly on here. We have to stop the bleeding. I have to call the police." She asked him emphatically. He didn't even dare to question her. Actually, he seemed to be grateful that he had someone to tell him what to do, and came to help her quickly.

Jordan got up and pulled out her cell phone from her coat pocket. She pressed a speed dial number and uttered, "Come on! Stop toying for a moment and answer!" Submerged in this distressing situation, she didn't realize she had spoken aloud.

At the other end of the line, Woody answered with a mixture of concern and discomfort, "What is it, Jordan? It's midnight and I'm not in service ..." It could also be heard far away, a female voice complaining. A series of noises revealed that Woody had put his fingers on the phone's microphone to prevent that Jordan would continue listening to what was occurring on his side of the phone. Surely he didn't want her to realize that Lu was actually with him and that she had indeed interrupted something between them.

"Sorry." She swallowed painfully and closed her eyes in an attempt to order her feelings. Definitely a woman with gunshot wound had an advantage over her broken heart. "You need to come immediately. We have another victim of the Richmond case, a woman, she's barely alive, the ambulance is coming ..."

"And how is it that you arrived before the ambulance?"

"Well, we were investigating a lead when this happened, and ..."

"Wait! Are you okay? Aren't you hurt?"

"Me? Oh don't worry. I'm surprised and a little scared, that's all. Hurry, we are at the corner of Harvard street and ..."

"We? Who else is with you?"

"I'm with Dylan Richmond. He had a lead and had to act fast."

"What Jordan? Do you have an apprentice already? You aren't a Jedi, you know? Richmond is a Professor, and you are a Medical Examiner, nothing to do with a cop. I don't know why you insist on risking yourself..."

Jordan snorted exasperatedly. "I won't argue with you. I wouldn't let Dylan to face this alone."

"Okay, okay. I'm on my way. Don't move ... we need to talk."

Jordan finished giving him the address and hung up the phone.

They heard the ambulance's siren getting close and Jordan assessed the bloody scene once more. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, too many deep emotions had her rattled and she needed to channel her adrenaline in a more productive way than feeling miserable. Then she got notice that Dylan was also bleeding from his left shoulder. Paramedics walked into the living room at that moment and they took care of the woman on the floor. Jordan approached the bewildered Professor and examined the wound the bullet had made. It had torn his clothes and had ripped some flesh in his shoulder.

"It isn't serious, but I have to disinfect and sew it. Ten stitches will do."

Jordan took the necessary from the paramedics' suitcase and proceeded to cure him, leading him to sit at the dining room chairs.

Meanwhile, the ambulance departed --with the dying woman-- toward the hospital. The CSU arrived a little later, and a few minutes after that, Jordan saw Woody's charming figure appearing at the house's entrance.

He was alone.

She closed her eyes and let out a bitter sigh, also trying to swallow back the tears that wanted to escape from her.

Dylan glanced at her, puzzled, and then searched with the eye at the house door for the cause that had made that amazing woman change her stance. She seemed as though she was a helpless little girl. He saw Detective Hoyt -- who was with her that evening at his home-- approaching them rapidly. Dylan's eyes returned to look at her again, and he was even more surprised by a new and sudden transformation she had undergone in just a blink. Before him, it was again the woman who had captivated him, beautiful and proud, smart and bold, so self confident and determined that he would have jumped from the roof if she would have asked him to.

"Jordan!" the detective called her attention, concern etched on every line of his face.

"Woody," she replied with a cool smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. It's just that things happened and..."

"Oh no! I want to apologize. It's not your fault. I mean, uh… you putting yourself in danger, yeah, it's your fault, but you, uh… interrupting me… I mean, I didn't have to be harsh on you. It took me by surprise, and..."

"No, Woody. Look, it's none of my business. OK?"

"It's not, huh?" He stared sadly and hurt at her for an instant, but regained his composure almost immediately. "Alright, what do we have?"

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	11. Dealing with ambiguity

Chapter 11. **Dealing with ambiguity.**

"We have a woman with gunshot wound on the back. I really hope she can make it, but…" Jordan shook her head. She knew that the woman's chances were very low.

"So, after this disaster, it seems that your apprentice has won his first war prize, hasn't he?" Woody tilted his head toward Dylan's wound. "You were lucky, Jordan. You could have gotten injured as well. You really shouldn't risk yourself in this manner…" He glanced at her earnestly and way too sweet to Jordan's liking. He didn't want to mock her; he was just establishing his point of view. It was incredibly difficult for him to stop protecting her. However, after Jordan glared at him, he got back to his professional stance. "Do we have a clue about the woman's identity?"

"No. Not really. I didn't have a chance to ask her name while I was reviving her." She answered sarcastically. Her reaction was a little over the top, but she wasn't truly angry at him – though she should, as Lu had told her so. It was that she felt uncomfortable being his damsel in distress. It was like she had never stopped being his 'almost something', as if Lu didn't exist. Jordan couldn't stand that ambiguity anymore. Actually, it was herself the one she was really mad at. She should be capable of processing this entire rejection thing in a better way; she should be dealing a little better how she felt about him. But she couldn't deny her love for Woody; it was irrational and went beyond her capacity. It wasn't a good idea to continue working together. It just hurt too much.

"I know who she is," Dylan interrupted them. Up to this point, he had just been watching them discuss, quietly. Ever since Thomas appeared dead at the docks, it was like he had been living his worst nightmare. Now that he was conscious of his wound, he was in a sea of pain; he struggled to cease it by squeezing strongly his injured forearm with his healthy hand, embracing himself.

Both, Woody and Jordan, turned to look at him at once, questioningly. "It's Mrs. Driscoll, Howard's mother," he uttered, gazing at Jordan.

Woody opened his eyes widely, emphasizing his still unresolved question. "And, who is Howard Driscoll?"

"Ah! That's the lead we were pursuing, and is only logical… we're in their house," she replied with a smile, thankful of Dylan's intervention. "Howard Driscoll, Thomas' classmate, he was in his soccer team too. He called Thomas on Saturday morning and, considering the recent events, he definitely had to do something with his death."

The CSU people worked on the scene while Jordan and the Professor told everything they knew to Woody. For now, the biggest question was Howard's whereabouts. He wasn't in the house and they couldn't rule him out as the attacker yet. Howard and his mother lived alone in that house; she was a widow and worked at the administrative office of Suffolk University. However, it wasn't making any sense that the boy had shot his mother, and it was also suspicious that the entrance door was ajar in the middle of the night in that neighborhood.

"We have a broken window with traces of blood, a footprint with some blood too on the sidewalk, and tire tracks on the pavement. We can identify him." One CS guy summarized it for Woody.

"Seek if the footprint matches with Howard's. There must be at least a pair of shoes resting in his room. Maybe we can know now if we have another victim on the way or our prime suspect," Woody ordered to the guy. Then, he talked to Richmond, "That would be all for today, Professor. But I need you tomorrow morning at the precinct. You have to give your statement. Just one more thing, let us do our job. The police is trained to do it, you aren't. If you insist on doing it by yourself, you're only going to get hurt, like today, and that'll complicate our work."

"Look, Detective." Dylan measured him with his eyes, still striving to maintain a good attitude. "I'll do whatever I can to cooperate with you, but… if something comes up and I have to act because of it… I won't hesitate. "

Jordan watched them both while they argued. She observed how they were very much alike. It wasn't that they were physically similar, though they were tall – Woody a little taller than Dylan — and had beautiful blue, expressive eyes. Dylan could be Woody's older brother. However, it was something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was maybe their sweet gaze, which could transform to a brave and determined stare.

"Dylan, you still have Erin. She needs you, don't risk yourself anymore," Jordan intervened. She hated to agree with Woody, but she recognized that he was just being reasonable.

Dylan glanced at her sadly, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and frowned, looking lost. "Right now, I'm no good. My daughter is in better hands with my sister. At least she can watch her and get notice if her mood changes. Protect her from drugs…" He swallowed hard and took a deep, painful breath. "I never knew when Tom… I have to understand what happened." He ended biting his lower lip so hard that a drop of blood slid from his teeth. He stomped toward the house door without saying goodbye.

Her eyes followed him, anxiously. "Wait!" she yelled at him. "I don't think you can drive. Let me go with you!" And she ran to catch up with him at the entrance.

"Don't worry, I can manage on my own," he rejected her.

Though she was really worried about him, she had an ulterior motive for tagging along with him. She didn't want to be alone with Woody after interrupting him with Lu earlier that night, and because she had left her car at the morgue and it was very late, Woody would be driving her home. That was something she would avoid at all costs. Dylan was her way out.

"Seriously, Dylan, let me drive your car. I can make sure you go straight to your home. Then, you can lend me your car so I can get to mine, and tomorrow morning, I can go to pick you up, so you can be at the precinct like Detective Hoyt said. Let me help you." She smiled warmly at him while she embraced his healthy arm, affectionately.

Dylan hung his head and let Jordan took him to his car. It was true. He would jump from the roof if she would ask him to…

Jordan turned her head to look at Woody while she walked along with Dylan, and smiled at him with that indifferent grin he didn't like on her. "I call you tomorrow."

Woody smiled her back confusedly, while he waved a weak goodbye to her.

He stood rooted to that spot, wondering what had just occurred. Jordan had left, almost ran away with that guy. He watched them walk away toward the car. He began to feel as though something had been lit in his stomach, coming up his body burning him, until it arrived at his brain and hit him forcefully, numbing him. He hated to admit it, but he knew all too well what was happening to him. He had felt it before.

Desperation, anger, jealousy…

Jordan had left with that guy and she seemed to be enjoying it!

Damn! He loved her!!!

Why couldn't she see it?!?

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	12. Don't blame it on music

Chapter 12. **Don't blame it on music**.

The way back to Dylan's home was incredibly silent. They both were engrossed in their own problem. Once Jordan parked the car in front of his building, the man remained still on his seat, thoughtful.

"We're here," she tried to bring his attention to the present moment. He just nodded, but continued motionless. She glanced at him worriedly. "Dylan ¿Are you OK? ¿Is it hurting you?" She was referring to his wound, thinking it could be his problem.

He took a deep breath, painfully, and looked at her with pleading eyes. "Could you please stay with me for a moment? Being alone… I don't think I could manage it tonight…" he ended with a stifled voice. He swallowed hard and took a series of swift breaths, almost hyperventilating. His face was transfigured at the edge of breakdown.

Jordan felt sorry for him. She knew it had cost him a lot of effort to ask for help. He looked like the type of guy that always was the helping one. She knew the situation had become more serious than she was prepared for, and she really shouldn't be volunteering for such an enterprise... she had her own share of problems to deal with. However she couldn't stand to leave such a nice guy like Dylan to his own device, this particularly difficult night.

"Do you have coffee upstairs? A good cup of coffee would help to calm our nerves, don't you think?" she suggested, smiling at him sweetly.

A muffled and hoarse "thank you," came out of his throat, his eyes closed in relieve.

She grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it tight, reassuringly. "Come on," she uttered after a few seconds.

They both got out of the car and continue their way toward his apartment. When they arrived, Jordan headed to the kitchen acting like she was at an old friend's home. "Tell me Dylan, What do you do at Suffolk? What's your field?"

He had followed her and was standing by the kitchen's door. "Well, I work at the 'Ethics and Public Policy' program," he answered, short of words. He wasn't in the mood for small talk. He just wanted someone to distract him from his dark, horrific thoughts.

She understood him. She smiled at him and twirled a lock of hair around her ear. "It sounds interesting. Maybe when you feel better you could tell me more about it?" she offered, indulging his desire to be silent. And without preamble, she proceeded to work.

She made a quick exploration of the kitchen until she found everything she needed and set up the coffee pot to funtion. Meanwhile, Dylan kept staring at her. He probably wasn't even looking what she did. "You have a very nice kitchen," she stated, still striving to break the tension that embraced him.

However, the minute she ended working on the coffee, he pretended to be distracted looking for the cups. The noise of the pumping water in the coffee maker was all that was heard. She observed him sadly. He was avoiding at all costs show weakness at her eyes. It was an enormous struggle that had him exhausted. Suddenly, she recognized how it was also very alike with Woody's traits.

When the coffee was ready, she poured it into their cups and handed his cup to Dylan. He took it a little confused, since he didn't know what to do next. So, Jordan took the initiative and walked, with her own cup of coffee on her hands, toward the living room. There it was the black, baby grand piano that drew her attention that afternoon.

She left the cup resting on the coffee table, and patted the lustrous, smooth surface of the instrument with her right hand. "It's beautiful! Do you play?"

The man stood looking at the piano, desolately. "Liz was the artist… this was her piano."

She realized that it was an intromission to his intimate life, but he was the one that had asked for her help, so, she lifted the cover to see at the piano keys. She pressed some keys, softly, and took pleasure on the sound released. "I'm actually a woman of guitar. I don't know how good I'm at it, but when my dad had the bar, I got to play there." She continued trying a few chords, clumsily, but truly enjoying the experience.

He left the coffee on the table too as he said, "I'm coming." And he disappeared to the bedrooms. Jordan kept playing the piano, a frank smile drawn on her face.

One minute later, Dylan was back with an electric guitar on his hands. "Play for me, please," he asked humbly.

"Oh boy!" She looked pleasantly surprised and a little scared too. "I actually play the acoustic guitar… I don't know if I can…" She grabbed the guitar and admired it for a moment. It was tobacco finished, and really gorgeous. "It's a Stratocaster, isn't it? Like The Edge's…I don't play rock, but I could try some blues…"

Hurriedly, Dylan plugged the guitar to an amplifier that was hidden behind a piece of furniture, as Jordan took a seat on the sofa with the guitar on her lap. She began playing a few melancholic chords while accompanying the melody with some vocalizations. She broke off her performance a little later, with a nervous, small laugh. "That's all I can do… maybe this is better." And she started singing 'You're innocent when you dream', strumming the strings with more security.

Dylan sat next to her, on the same sofa. Her performance had his rapt attention. It was sad and sweet for him, a moment of incredible peace within the maelstrom that had shattered his life. Tears finally came out of his eyes when she finished. It was probably the first time he had cried since his son had died.

"Thanks, you don't know how good it feels… you sing beautifully," he managed to say with choked voice. He smiled for the first time since Jordan actually knew him. It was a great smile, sincere and manly.

"I don't know," she looked at him guardedly. Then she grinned. "So, is it you the one that plays guitar?" She was really satisfied for the reaction she had caused on him.

He nodded at her. His smile, though weak, was still drawn on his face. "I wanted to teach Tom, but he wouldn't want to learn. He said that I was too demanding and that he wasn't likely to become a musician. But, you know? He was right. It's much more than a hobby to me… Liz and I met at a music fan club at the university." His smile faded and Jordan thought that music would be a good therapy.

So, she put the guitar on his lap and asked him, "It's your turn, play something for me, please."

He closed his eyes with an expression of shear horror, and by the time he opened them again and started to strum the strings, he looked as though he had jumped from the highest cliff, knowing that it was the only way to reach his destiny. It was maybe his wound what was causing him to be in such a hurtful state, but Jordan would bet everything she had on something else, something deeper and intangible.

One incredibly heartbreaking melody surprised her, exquisite and cadenced, it was a fabulous piece of soft rock. He was pouring all his soul in it. Music penetrated into their cores, crumbling down all their shields.

For Jordan, even though she had been distracted with Dylan's affairs, these last days had been a torture. This particular day, she had to face life by picking up the pieces of her broken heart, struggling to survive.

For Dylan, it had been an endless battle between life and death, one loss after another…

They were a couple of tormented souls that had found each other, and that with every note that came out of the guitar they felt even more identified. When the last sound died out, Dylan set the instrument aside the sofa and looked at the intense woman seated next to him, piercingly into her eyes, vehemently, like a dead man walking that dreadfully clung to life.

Jordan couldn't help but think how the blue of his eyes was so incredibly similar to Woody's, and yet so totally different.

Their faces came closer, involuntarily. Until they were so near that they could feel each other's warm breathing washing them, agitated. The gaze locked onto their eyes, minding one unique thought, craving for just one thing. In one second, their lips touched inevitably, desperately, seeking the solace that they knew the other one could give.

And they kissed for a long time.

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	13. Wild sex and consoling souls

**_Warning_**_! Explicit sex! If you're a minor or it isn't of your liking, please, please, don't read it. However, if you choose reading it, please, please leave a review! _

Chapter 13.**Wild sex and consoling souls.**

Dylan was kissing her eagerly. He nibbled her lips smoothly while sucking on them. Jordan responded similarly, sucking him back, relishing on his different, new taste. His mouth felt moistened, soft and warm, like a shelter.

His right arm encircled her, strongly and protectively. His left hand held her neck, taking her slowly to rest her back against the sofa. Surprisingly, his wound didn't seem to bother him. She caressed his neck with both her hands, trusting his firm but sweet moves on her. Once she lay on the sofa, he searched for her waist under her clothes, tentatively. His hands dared to explore more skin up to her chest, until her attire made it very difficult to continue.

His hands were big and silky, his caresses safe and tender. Jordan couldn't help but compare them to Woody's.

She couldn't stop herself from thinking about Woody. Every touch and every loving intention reminded her of him.

Although they had made love just once, and under 'moonshine' influence, that time had left its deep mark on her. His contact haunted her skin, torturing her almost every night; so, she replayed it under the bed sheets, consoling herself with her own hand.

This encounter with Dylan was more of the same. It was making love to Woody again in arms of another man, under the gaze of alien eyes.

Jordan pushed herself up front a little with her elbows on the sofa, so she could get rid of the bulky coat. Dylan took it as a cue to continue his loving ministrations, and helped her with her blouse too. Then, she unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled it off him. It got stuck on his right elbow, but he tore it off quickly and threw it across the room.

Meanwhile, Jordan was giving him biting-kisses on his chest. She was pretty aware that this lover wasn't her detective, though he was well-built and handsome - just like Woody, but she guessed that if he were him, he would make love to her the same way, tenderly and determinedly. She began to feel the stirrings of desire on her entire body.

He set her down, back on the sofa, and kissed her bare skin on her belly, seeking --with more soft kisses-- to reach her chest. Then, he slipped one hand under her back and unclasped her bra, while with the other hand he was already massaging her breast, greedily. He leaned over her until his lips barely touched her left nipple. Jordan groaned at his contact. The instant she felt her flesh on his mouth, she arched forward, wanting him to suck her stiff nipple eagerly. She obliged her breast to him so hard that he dragged her nipple across his teeth and gums and the roof of his mouth, and his soft licking transformed into a furious exploration, his tongue rubbing it in circles. Each stroke was like a lightning bolt that had her whimpering in pleasure. Her heart beat fast and her skin was littered with sexual desire. Her husky gasps and moans showed him how his touch gave her delight, and that made his arousal even harder.

She shoved her pubes against his muscular body, and his erection saluted her across their pants fabric. That encouraged her to rub her groin against him, so she could enjoy him trough the clothes.

Dylan sought to unbutton Jordan's pants, hurriedly, never leaving her nipples unattended. He reached her zipper with one hand first, but as it didn't want to slide down, he took his both hands to work. After he achieved his goal, he pulled her pants off her and tossed them away. He parted his attention between her breast and her exposed abdomen, traveling around her smoothness, patting the way down to her wet core. He pushed aside the last piece of fabric that blocked his road, and looked earnestly for the outer lips of her vagina with his fingers. His hunting hand had her at the edge of crying, gasping every second, feeling him approaching dangerously. The instant he thrust his indomitable finger inside her, she pushed herself against him forcefully again, and let out a broken, muffled groan. It rapidly transformed into a soft sobbing that only served to encourage him for more explorations into her wet, feminine folds. Her heart's galloping pace marked the rhythm she now stroked her flesh against his finger, going back and forth. She was fully lubricated and expectant for what he promised and that was still hidden in his garment.

Jordan unzipped desperately Dylan's pants, and as best she could, she struggled to get rid of his underwear, pulling it down. He helped her hastily, bent one knee on the sofa and placed one foot on the floor, removing clumsily his last remaining cover.  
She took his erect penis with her right hand and squeezed it seductively. Then, she began to stroke it slowly up and down. It felt so right on her hands that a wave of lust suddenly surprised her, an impulsive desire to stick his erection into her mouth. So, she slipped away from him, down the floor, shoved his big frame against the sofa and knelt in front of him. She immediately took his penis around her lips, sucking it deep down her throat, to finally release it nibbling gently at his peak. He groaned inwardly, blown away by her impetuous attack, and ended breathing heavily. She took her clit with her own hand, her other hand on his hard cock, her teeth and lips still biting-kissing him, and started to massage them both, relentlessly. Waves of pleasure invaded them, until she was urged to feel him inside her, penetrating into her arousal, quickly.

"Dylan," she uttered haltingly. "A condom ... Ah!" an involuntary contraction interrupted her. "We need a condom," she panted.

He leaned forward, releasing his member of the blissful agony, to catch her mouth fiercely with his own mouth. His tongue inspected every corner of her pit, twirling around her tongue, entangling her. Then he hugged her with great force and rose from the sofa, taking her with him. He grabbed hold of her hand gently, and led her seductively to one of the bedrooms. He left her kindly on the bed, kissing her belly for a short farewell, and exited the room just to return almost immediately with a condom on his hand. Then he kissed her again on the same spot he said goodbye, and took away the last piece of lingerie that still dressed her. He continued his kissing ministrations accompanying them with soft licking, taking pleasure on the salty taste of her sweat-glazed flesh. He was seeking now for the bulge between her legs. She couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut in satisfaction, gasping and sighing every second of his journey. He finally found her swollen clitoris, and started kissing it gently, but then he rushed to suck like crazy. That made Jordan to launch a sharp cry of surprise and ecstasy. He took her to the edge of climax, only to back off a second earlier. Then he adjusted to him the condom with the mastery of someone that had done it many times. He placed him above her, his knees on each side of her hips, while kissing and teasing her breasts again, traveling his tongue over her neck and below her ear, on that sensitive spot of lust. Jordan shuddered at the contact of his lascivious tongue licking inside her ear, and she couldn't bear another waiting instant for him to be inside of her, so she arched toward him, forked her legs apart readily, took his penis on her hands and led it, bossy, toward her entry.

He plunged hard and energetic into her vagina, moving up and down cadenced as if he was playing the guitar. Their rhythm steadied gradually. His hardness, rocking back and forth against her flesh faster and faster, was making her vagina contract powerfully. The final was approaching agonizingly, until it was unbearable. She climaxed violently, her blood rushing to her brain as she released a hoarse cry, drowning her in wave after wave of ecstasy.

Her frantic convulsions on his throbbing, swollen member caused Dylan to yield his own orgasm. He came with a loud, shuddering gasp, and a series of spasms took over him. At the end, he bent a little forward, drained.

After a while, his flaccid penis slid out of her, and Dylan pulled off the condom awkwardly, throwing it aside the bed.

Jordan gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered silkily, "Thanks."

His eyes were shut. He let himself rest his right side on the bed, in front of her, one arm over her stomach, holding her.

He began to sob uncontrollably, letting out bitter and sad sighs. He finally vented his sadness, one tear after another, liberating his soul from the oppressive agony of his losses.

She hugged him tenderly, knowing intuitively that they were tears of healing. She reached out a blanket that was at their feet, to cover up their naked bodies. She wasn't ashamed of their nudity; she only intended to keep them warm and safe under the blanket. She caressed his cheek gently, and he snuggled against her as a toddler.

She was thoroughly satisfied and happy with her own release. However, the starters of a nagging thought poked into her spirit. What if she got stuck with a good guy for the wrong reasons? She swept the idea under the rug and relished on the good amount of endorphins that wild sex had brought to her.

They lay there on the bed, one against the other, until sleep took over them.


	14. Love is unmistakable

Chapter 14. **Love is unmistakable even under the gaze of strangers.**

Her chest throbbed with an anxious rush of fear. She didn't remember what had happened last night or where she was right now. Jordan explored the room with her eyes, hoping to recognize something. A very long time had passed since she last had been in this situation, feeling the anxiety to wake up in a strange room, striving to remember with whom she had gotten laid. A little panicked, she remembered how she regretted relapsing back into those self-destructives actions that had consumed her, ages ago.

A huge, panoramic window showed the magnificent piers landscape as a glimpse of daylight timidly illuminated the room. Immediately, flashbacks of the previous day's events invaded her brain, like a quick snapshots sequence.

She turned to look at her side, rapidly, wondering where could be Dylan now. She was alone, naked, under the blanket. She rose from the bed and tied up a sheet around her torso, determined to recover her clothes that surely had stayed outside, in the living room.

She felt relieved that she didn't have sex with a stranger, but a sense of discomfort quickly replaced her uneasiness.

Last night was impulsive, it was beautiful and sad ... but it was also a big mistake. She shouldn't have engaged with a victim in this way. Such a conduct for a County Coroner like herself was the least expected. Yet, deep down her heart she felt it was alright.

She looked around the room again, surveying it with a curious eye now. A beautiful picture placed on the bedside table robbed her attention, so she grabbed it to look at it more closely. Dylan was hugging his wife, Liz. She was a beautiful woman, around forty; dark, long, straight hair, her eyes were green and she had a safe, loving look. They both were smiling at each other, the bay behind them. It was a silent portrayal of their blissful relationship. Even through that long distance look, across the time and a technological device like the camera, their happiness was perfectly clear. Jordan could see it in their eyes, how they loved each other, how their bodies radiated joy and delight to each other's closeness. It was incredible that their unfathomable love could be told so neat and simple, by just watching a humble picture.

"It was the last picture in the camera before the accident. Tom called me and said that her mom had been in a traffic crash and was in surgery, so I had to hurry. She died that night. I didn't manage to see her alive." Dylan uttered calmly and softly as he came near Jordan.

His silent and unexpected entrance caught her off guard. His sad eyes fell upon her after he stared desolately at the photo for a while. He was carrying a cup of steaming coffee, had already dressed, his hair was a bit wet, and the scent of a recent bath –mixed with the whiff of coffee—revealed that he had awakened long before her and was ready to go.

He offered to her the cup of coffee, and for an instant, she didn't know how to react. As snapped out of a dream, she realized that she had to take the cup from him, so she left the picture on the table and grabbed the cup. Then, she cleared her throat and cast him a nervous look.

"Dylan, about last night ..." she began, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He smiled immediately at her, seemingly to step more confidently on the slippery ground that the recent events had set to them. Of course, he had had a little more time to process it adequately.

Though he was still kind, he changed his warm demeanor to a more formal stance. "Don't worry. I'm grateful that you've stayed with me last night… I wanted to kill myself," his voice failed him a bit. He coughed lightly and swallowed hard, visibly tense, but recovered quickly. "You're a wonderful person, but I'm very confused right now." He smiled again, while accommodated the photo on the nightstand. "We have to give our statement, and surely you'll have to go to work after that, right?" He added quickly, changing the subject.

Jordan nodded at him. His revelation of his alarming suicide intentions disturbed her, and she didn't quite understand what he said, so she concentrated on figuring out the entire situation. She found it too embarrassing to ask him directly, so she kept it on a speculative level. Did he want them to be just friends? She hoped so, because she didn't want to face him by explaining her own selfish motives to have sex with him last night. She had wanted to forget about Woody for a while, to feel better, a change of perspective. However, it seemed that she only had complicated her life.

She sipped from her cup while she watched him leaving the room, and returning a moment later with her clothes, neatly folded on his hands. Looking up at him trough the steam rising from her cup, she said, "I need to stop by my place to grab clean clothes, and take a bathe."

"Let's go if you want, but if you prefer, you can bathe here. I also can give you some of Liz's clothes that'll fit you perfectly," he offered, solicitous. He discarded Jordan's clothing on the bed, and walked rapidly toward the closet.

She didn't have time to say a thing about it, when the sight of Liz's multiple dresses hanging up on the closet hooks appeared at their eyes as he slid open the closet's doors. They were carefully wrapped with plastic covers that seemed deliberately placed to preserve them. It was such an overwhelming view that she couldn't help but feel she was at a museum.

"No Dylan, I don't think that's a good idea ... uh, I frankly don't want you to think that I ..." her voice faltered, she didn't know how to finish the sentence, so she put down the coffee cup on the nightstand, and grabbed her own clothes from the bed to gain a little time and thus find the words. She began to feel afraid of the implications of wearing his dead wife's dressing.

He had already taken a blouse and was offering it to her as he said firmly, "What? They're just clothes. Truth is that I haven't had the guts to get rid of them, but they're still only clothes. This isn't a commitment or anything like that…"

He made two determined steps toward her and held her hand unwaveringly, pushing aside on the bed, Liz's blouse and Jordan's clothes. His penetrating blue eyes stared into her eyes. "I know that last night you acted as a Good Samaritan, but you can't deny you also enjoyed it."

He stepped closer to reach out her waist, encircling her with his free arm. Their bodies were so near, that she could hear his heart beating strong and fast against her chest. "I'd like you to think of me as an option, Jordan, but I also understand that this is a delicate moment in your life, and then, I would be just a palliative."

"What do you mean?" She frowned, and although she hadn't resisted his embrace, she was nervous.

He leaned a little toward her and uttered softly, his warm breathing caressing her face, "You love him, very much. Life is short, you don't know how much. You can't waste a single minute of your time. He loves you too; I saw it in his eyes."

Her heart beats raced now. She couldn't discern if it was his dangerous closeness to her, or what he had just said. How did he possibly know?

"I don't know what you're talking about," she objected weakly.

"About Detective Hoyt and you. I don't know what's wrong with you two, but what you both have, that what you spread out a mile around, that's what I had with my Liz." He gazed at her intently, his expression between nostalgic and pained, but incredibly sexy.

"We're just friends ..." she clarified it to him in a whisper, almost panting.

"Jordan, let me kiss you. If I'm right, let this be my farewell. If it's true what you say, let me show you my door open," he pleaded, his mouth an inch away from her, his frantic and warm breathing made her shiver in anticipation.

So, she just closed her eyes and felt his lips pressed tightly against hers, caught in a passionate kiss. While she responded eagerly to his kiss, really immersed in their raw emotions, and his mouth tasted like glory, her head reeled around a single idea:

"Woody loved her? Was it true?

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	15. I can read them all, but you

Chapter 15. **I can read them all, but you.**

He gave the boy his hand for a goodbye shake while they were standing at his office door. Woody inspected the teenager up to the last detail, trying to find out a clue that would reveal he was hiding something. This was the second boy he interviewed this morning, Thomas' friends arrived his office very early. It seemed that the Richmond boy was really appreciated. However, he was all too aware of the implications of hiding a cocaine business like the one he was sure he would find out within this crime. A dealer could have bought a huge drug addict community, and he knew firsthand how it worked. Addicts knew how to lie, they cheated masterly.

Cal, his younger brother, was the master of deceit, but he had never bought his act.

He was his only immediate family and he was an addict. Gambling, drugs… all the social cancers that he was willing to fight up to the end. Woody felt a painful twinge on his chest at the memory of Cal, imaging him in every boy he interrogated, suspecting a hidden lie that would end in more casualties.

All these excruciating thoughts enveloped him while he watched the boy walk down the hall toward the exit.

Then, he saw them.

Jordan and the Professor stepped in the hall together. That annoying tingle of jealousy he had felt last night when they were leaving-- returned, burning his stomach again. He shouldn't feel that way, he reflected, Richmond and Jordan have met no more than three days ago, and on the other hand, he had Lu to worry about. But the feeling didn't disappear, and instead of diminishing, it grew as he watched them approaching him.

Jordan looked particularly different today. There was an aura of satisfaction that surrounded her, so to speak. Not happy, but close to it. And she dressed differently as well. Although she clad his classic jeans, she was wearing a white silk blouse that fitted her wonderfully, giving her a look between sensual and formal. The fabric floated ethereal around her, wrapping her body but hiding just the essential, and leaving to his fertile imagination what poke out suggestively from the bottom neckline. He gulped at her sight.

"Hey Woody," she greeted him with a sincere smile, while the Professor was reaching out to shake his hand.

"Good morning, Detective," said Richmond, serious and confident, with a serene expression on his face.

"Good morning, Professor," he answered, tightening their handshake.

"We just signed our statements, and I only wanted to convince Dylan that we're working hard on his case, aren't we?" She grinned, her beautiful almond eyes shined on him.

"Of course we are, I hope to make great strides forward on this matter today," Woody replied suspiciously, wondering what had caused her wonderful glance. Was it because of him? Or was it because of the odious Professor next to them?

"Nigel just told me that Howard Driscoll wasn't the one that attacked us last night. Is he missing?" Jordan asked, becoming serious and professional.

"We shouldn't discuss this in front of the Professor, Jordan," Woody muttered, and tried to pull her away into his office, holding her arm firmly, so he could speak with her privately.

But Richmond quickly interrupted, "Detective, I'll find out anyway. I told you last night that I didn't want to break into your job. All I want is to find the criminal responsible for my son's death. I want -- the bastard, to get what he deserves." A glimpse of the rage Richmond felt was showed in his words.

"And, let me guess. It would be you who decide exactly what he deserves?" Woody's jealousy was in the pit of his stomach threatening to escalate and control him. It was a tough battle -- between reason and emotion-- the one he waged internally. Obviously, the Professor was devastated by the death of his son, and he wasn't a weak man, nor he had resigned to the state of the events.

Meanwhile, Jordan broke free from his gripping, shaking her arm away from his hand angrily, and he turned to look at her, puzzled. He suddenly realized that his previous attempt at pulling her away was as if he had wanted to take her off from Richmond. And it was incredibly stupid because she didn't belong to him, not really, did she?

"Even if I would want to be the one who decides his destiny, I'm all too aware I can't, detective. It's exactly what I teach at the university. I can only hope the son of a bitch gets what he deserves, and I just want to make sure that you catch him to make that happen." Richmond responded briskly, looking him straight in the eye.

A flamboyant blue lightning duel broke out when Woody stared back at him.

"Driscoll has disappeared," Woody said finally, twisting and shaking his head slightly to release his tensed nerves -that cracked in the movement, drawing his attention back to Jordan. "Unfortunately, his mother died an hour ago." He let out a discontent guttural sound. He had his lips tightly pressed one upon the other, his troubled but scrutinizing gaze on her, and he continued, "Sorry, Jordan. I know you did everything you could to save her, but her wound was mortal. She never regained consciousness."

Both, Jordan and Richmond hung their heads sadly at the news he broke to them. She combed her hair with her left hand, in a disappointment gesture.

"The bullet that killed her came out from the same gun that the bullet we found in Thomas. We have samples of blood and a footprint from the perp. It'll be a matter of time that we find him," Woody ended, striving to penetrate into their reactions.

Jordan sighed, looked up at them and smiled sadly. "I guess that we can finally release Thomas' body. The cause of his death is well established, it was the effect of cocaine combined with a weak heart. His treatment with Adriamycin left a deadly aftermath. It's very feasible that his drug dealer tried to hide his drug business with the shot, and from that moment to now, he's only been trying to cover his tracks."

"Yes, Jordan. You were right," Woody admitted, staring at her seriously.

"Isn't it always?" She glanced back at him lovingly, which only served to puzzle him greatly. Then she addressed kindly to Richmond. "You can pick up your child after I finish my report. Everything will be ready in two hours, at the most."

The Professor started to shed sad, silent tears, and she rinsed them gently with her hand. Then, she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek, trying to comfort him. "Tell me if you want me to go with you."

"Thank you, Jordan. I have to rush with the burial." The Professor took her hand and kissed her on the knuckles while repeating, "Thanks." And he left rapidly.

Woody merely stared at them, surprised with the familiarity they seemed to have developed to each other, and the battle of jealousy that he thought surpassed, resurfaced violently. He wanted to run away, to hide and ruminate his bitterness alone, as a small, confused child. But he also wanted to clarify at all cost what was happening, so he struggled to stay in control.

"You look different," he managed to voice out loud after a few moments, time she occupied looking worriedly at the Professor walking down the corridor.

"Yes? How so?" She turned her sad attention toward him.

"I don't know. That blouse really suits you." He pointed his finger at her, awkwardly, and the statement sounded out of place the second he heard it, but he had already said it, so it was done. In the same string of ideas, he should have said that she also smelled different, just like always, but differently. It might be due as well to the lack of perfume. He wished he could embrace her and bury his face in her hair just he got her aroma. He wished he could fly with her, merged with her hair, to a place where past wouldn't exist, only their future together.

"Thanks." She smiled at him sweetly again, and it only confused him even more.

This woman was a riddle.

"You and the Professor… you two are bonding, right?" His eyes flashed the restrained emotions he struggled to keep at bay.

Jordan observed him carefully for a moment, and replied quietly, "Well, he's a wonderful man. He's at a very sensitive and incredibly sad moment right now, but he helped me to open my eyes to things that really matter to me." Her whole face smiled at him, her dark eyes gazed deeply into him with a look he rarely had seen in her. He experienced a flip flop, fluttering feeling in his chest. Certainty and hesitation attacked him at the same time:

It is love, right? That's a glance of love. But, who do you love, Jordan? Is it me? Is it Richmond? Wasn't it the damn Aussie?

"See you later, Woody. I have to hurry up with my work." She gave him an amorous kiss on the cheek and smiled lovingly at him again before taking the exit road.

He patted his recently kissed cheek with his palm, and watched her leave, stunned.

* * *

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	16. Rather live a lie than risk the heart

Chapter 16**. Rather live a lie than risk the heart**.

His sentiment of confusion endured long after Jordan was gone. The possibility of hope was devastating; Woody knew it was way too dangerous to hold onto illusions. He wasn't willing to doom himself just because an alluring love glance that he wasn't even sure it was meant for him.

What he had with Lu was much simpler, manageable, and it certainly didn't represent a threat. There was no rejection, no uncertainty and no pain.

Jordan, on the other hand, could kill him with just one glance. The doubts were eating him alive. If she loved him, he could finally get rid of his shell and face the challenge. But if she didn't, well, that was another story. A painful one. What if the Professor had helped her to realize that she still loved the Aussie?… or even worse, what if she had already fallen in love with Richmond? He wouldn't be able to recover then, it would be devastating if he tried a move on her and she rejected him, again. His world, though far from what he really craved, was a safe place now.

Woody worked the whole morning, trying to bury his emotions under a pile of interviews and investigations, hiding even from himself what Jordan's glance had caused on him. For the moment, he had a mission – finding Howard Driscoll. Focusing on this single task would maintain him sane and functional. The boy might be in great danger, and if he wasn't a part of the drug operation that had already killed his friend Thomas and his mother, he had to be truly scared, hiding.

Woody was engrossed reviewing a file, sitting at his desk, when Lu got into his office. "Hello Detective, here you go. Jenssen, from vice, asked me to give it to you." She left a heavy cardboard box on the desk. "You've been busy all morning. I hoped to hear from you a little earlier," she added a bit resentfully.

Woody put aside the file he was studying and rose from his chair to greet her. "Thank you, Detective," he said jokingly, while reaching around her waist to hug her and give her a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry about that, I have to find a boy. He might be in true danger. I didn't realize the time." He left her and started to check the contents of the box that vice had sent to him.

Lu watched him in the meanwhile, as though she was measuring the words she needed to use to ask him something. A moment passed and as he didn't seem to be interested in other thing than the box contents, she decided to speak.

"What did Jordan want last night?" She struggled to sound casual, as if she asked only out of curiosity.

Woody – who had taken a folder from the box and was browsing what was inside it quickly—didn't look up to her when he answered, "Well, just what she said. She and Richmond chased a lead and someone shot them. The Professor was injured." He was still distracted, flipping sheets from a document, without actually putting attention to his girlfriend. "Slightly. Nothing to worry about. But they found a woman with a gunshot wound there, so Jordan did everything she could to save her. Unfortunately, the poor woman died at the hospital. I'm trying to find her son now."

Lu contemplated him one more second. She sighed deeply, perhaps striving to find the courage she needed, and finally said, "Tell me this is not how it's gonna be, Woody."

As he was still engaged reviewing the documents, he responded with his mind on what he was reading, "What?"

"That you're not going to run to her every single time she calls in the middle of the night, asking for your help," she said emphatically.

Now she had his full attention, obviously bemused by her statement. His head jumped up from the file to meet her eyes immediately. "It wasn't a personal matter. It was all about my case," He answered hesitantly. He knew he was guilty even if he was telling her the truth, and he feared that she had somehow realized what he really felt for Jordan.

"She won't call you for a personal matter, it's not her style. I know she has feelings for you, but she's never gonna admit it, you saw it." She smiled sweetly at him and patted his left arm --the one that still held the documents-- kindly.

Woody stared at her, puzzled, unsure to where this conversation was heading, and his anxiety grew up to the limit he wasn't sure he could hold on his act as an honest man. However, Lu's attitude was quite the opposite of a woman scorned; it was more likely she was being supportive and conciliatory. So, he couldn't help but feel guilty, now for totally different reasons. He acknowledged his deception, and that he was dragging her into a misleading situation. That was another reason for he had to avoid risking everything with Jordan. He owed it to Lu.

The blonde gave him a sweet kiss on the lips and grinned at him. "I know that she's still important to you, and perhaps she'll always be, in some way. But she can't keep herself out of trouble. I've seen her invested in her cases in a way that it's insane, and I frankly don't think that you should continue encouraging her. Talk to her and tell her to stay away from police job. Tell her that she needs to focus on her actual work at the morgue."

He burst out a loud laugh that hid his nervousness wonderfully, although he immediately struggled to stifle it. He replied, still in blissful disbelief, "It's Jordan we're talking about, Lu. It isn't that simple, you know? This is how she is, and she won't change, ever. There's no way to set limits to her."

"Then you walk away from her, Woody. It isn't a healthy relationship. You can't keep your mind focused on work twenty-four hours a day, body need some rest. Mind too. It's a very destructive compulsive attitude." She changed her tone to that of a professional shrink, imposing to her words the irrevocability of a specialist.

Thoughts of his treatment came back to him clearly. He remembered how it was when Lu treated him, how she gave him a lesson of life with the Jesse Spalding case, a police's son orphaned by a punk, just like him. She had been right then, and she could probably be right now, but the sole idea of being away from Jordan gave him dizziness. He had been the one that had called Jordan for his case, and even when she had asked him not to do it again, he knew he would continue seeking the way to work with her, always. It was the only link between them both that couldn't be destroyed, that would maintain them united inexorably. He needed to be near Jordan, he suddenly realized, he required her as he required air to breathe. If she was close to him, even if she found someone… perhaps like Richmond, to love... if she was nearby, he could still be able to breathe.

"We're friends. I can't do that," he protested weakly.

"You have to, Woody. She has good intentions, but she's obsessed… Work is a substitute of her life and it will destroy her eventually, dragging you with her in the process. You can't let it happen. You have to live your own life."

The transcendence of his lie began to peek through the shadows. Lu was his lie and he necessitated to keep building upon it so he could make his own alternate reality, without complications, with no threats on the horizon, and without a trace of pain. But he wouldn't give up on Jordan, not now, not ever.

He had to act convincingly to get what he wanted, so he discarded the file he still held on his hand into the box and reached out to embrace Lu, taking her by the waist with both his arms, seductively. He tugged her to him very close, and whispered in her ear with his best snake charmer performance, "I live my life, you're a witness. We could end tonight what we couldn't finish yesterday."

He felt how she trembled on his arms as his mouth brushed her ear lightly, and he knew that the damage was about to be consummated. He cupped the back of her head firmly with his hands and kissed her fiercely, so demanding and passionate that it was convincing, even for him.

_Oh please, don't kill me! I promise this isn't how this is going to end, trust me._

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	17. I have to do something

Chapter 17. **I have to do something**.

It was past noon and Thomas' funeral was about to begin. Jordan had called Woody to tell him the hour and the place. The blue eyed detective knew he had to go even if he didn't feel like to. All potential suspects – and perhaps the Driscoll boy-- would attend the event and it was the perfect opportunity to watch them all. If he searched with an accurate eye, it was very possible that the criminal would reveal himself among the crowd. Beside, Howard Driscoll could try to contact someone there, looking for protection and stop hiding.

However, the thought of him seeing Richmond and Jordan together again, gave him nauseas. The leggy brunette had already told him that she would tag along with the Professor. She wanted to be there for him, supporting the man in this difficult time. Although he had tried all morning to delude himself by convincing him that Jordan was free to build her life the way she pleased, and that he should definitively move on with Lu; and even though he had tried to evade reality working like a man possessed, reality had made sure he wouldn't fool himself. There was no way to escape from it. The implications made him sick to his stomach.

Woody had sent ahead him a couple of police patrols to guard the crowd. The officers had a picture of Howard Driscoll, in case he would appear, and they had the general description of the suspect: young man, medium height, thin, athletic shoe size number 9 -- worn on the right side of the heel. Nothing special that could differentiate him from the rest of Thomas' friends. The murderer identification task with such a poor information would be starkly unsuccessful. This latter issue was precisely what made him stop by the morgue before he arrived to the funeral. Jordan had told him that the DNA samples were still processing at the lab, and that Bug was taking care of it. Woody wanted to see if new information had emerged.

He found the taciturn coroner absorbed in labeling jars at the lab. There were a number of lab equipment running quietly around him.

"Hi Bug. Got something for me?" Woody asked as he tapped his back as a way to greeting him.

"DNA results." Bug put the last bottle on the table and got up the chair to get some papers at the nearest desk. "Now I need something to compare them with."

Woody showed him a folder he carried on his hands. "Here. I've gathered data on possible suspects. Maybe we get lucky and he has a criminal record."

"As if I haven't got enough work to get done," Bug grumbled, while taking the folder from Woody. "What's Jordan got with this case?" he added, visibly displeased, and browsed through the documents, flipping the sheets.

Woody watched him in the meanwhile, a little puzzled by his friend reaction. "What do you mean?"

"I have my own work to do. I'm not at her service, you know?" he griped as he compared between graphics from the DNA results and the data Woody had brought.

"What is it with you, Bug? This is urgent. A boy's life might be in danger, and if there's any clue here that could help us to find the perp, we might save his life." Woody stepped behind him to see above the coroner shoulder to what he was looking at on the sheets. Although the graphics, and the information beneath them, were incomprehensible for a pair of inexperienced eyes like his, he felt a bit less useless watching them than just waiting and having to endure a grumpy Bug.

"If it's so urgent, Jordan should have stayed and finish herself the work. But she rather went to socialize with the victim's father, right? Women… they always get what they want." Woody's nearness doubled his bad mood, so he turned around and stabbed him with his eyes, letting his mind very clear that he didn't like to be spied over his shoulders. "Do you mind? I'm trying to breathe my own share of air."

Woody resigned and took a step sideways. Then, he asked as if he was just making small talk, but the truth was that the issue was crucial to him. "Do you know if she's dating Richmond?"

"What!?!" Bug looked up from the papers to see at him incredulous and visibly uncomfortable by his question. "No, I don't know. And if I knew something, I wouldn't tell you. You'll have to ask her yourself."

Out of the blue, a happily excited Lily stomped into the room, pointing her index fingers at them. "You two!" Both men interrupted their conversation and stared at her, astounded. "Good thing I found you together! You were the last." She walked determinedly toward the flabbergasted men and gave each of them an envelope. "There you are. The address of the rehearsal after party is inside. Tomorrow night, OK? The wedding invitation is inside too. Hope to see you there." Her whole face smiled. "I can't believe it! Three days to go!" Her eyes flickered over them.

"Yes," Bug responded with a wince that would probably be intended as a smile. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

Satisfied with the dark coroner's answer, Lily drew her attention to Woody. He seemed both confused and amused. "Yes Lily. Count me in."

The red haired woman turned serious when she let out, "Don't get me wrong, but I'm only inviting you, Woody. I don't have anything against your girlfriend, you know what I mean, don't you? I don't want to upset Jordan."

Woody blinked several times, trying to process what she said. Of course he knew what she meant; Lu wasn't welcomed to the party. However, the ultimate implication eluded him. "No Lily, I don't understand. What would Jordan care if I go with Lu? She has made it very clear that she has no problem…"

"Oh, for God's sake, Woody!" she interrupted him, exasperatedly. "I can't believe you haven't realized it yet! That's just a pretense. I'm not trying to tell you how to handle your life, but Jordan is my best friend and I don't want her to get through a bad time. And I also want you to go to my wedding, so that's why I'm telling you, OK?" She smiled at him again. Considering the issue ended, she rolled on her feet and she left the same hurricane way she entered, disappearing across the exit door in one second.

"You see?... Women," Bug muttered -- grinding his teeth, as Lily was gone. Then, he continued comparing the graphics on his hands.

Suddenly, Bug's anger made perfect sense to Woody. Lily's wedding was going to be in three days. The woman Bug loved was about to commit to another man and the medical examiner would rather hide at work than face the situation. It also hit too close to home to him, and it was both, uncomfortable and suffocating. So, he choose to ignore the incident, reserving any comments that might hurt his friend. On the other hand, he needed to get back to the topic that truly interested him.

"What do you know about Jordan and Richmond? Bug, tell me." Woody said almost pleading.

Bug looked at him over the folder, annoyed. "I only know that she threw herself into work with this case, like if her life was on it."

"That bad?" Woody said, defeated.

The other man nodded, peeking at him out of the corner of his eyes. Bug put the papers on the desk so he could take a better angle of comparison. "That's right. Yesterday, she made us work like crazy so she could give the body to his father in less time than the regulation says. Well," he grunted. "When Richmond came, she asked me to finish her tests... I don't know how she tricked me into helping her," he complained again. "I haven't finished my own work and I'm doing hers after a double shift," he ended, indicating with a wave of his hand around the room the multiple lab equipment that were working.

Woody remained silent for a few moments, in deep thought. His confusion had reached an extreme limit. In first place, Lily had revealed him that Jordan was actually affected with his relationship with Lu, so he could put that love glance of hers down to him. On second place, Bug's information was quite the opposite, showing him that Jordan was involved with Richmond on a personal level. And finally, if he didn't act in response, he would end on a similar position than his friend, looking how his chance with the woman he loved vanished in smoke.

"Well, that means I have to do something," Woody said out of the blue.

Bug looked up from the papers spread on the desk to him and said sharply, "So, catch the murderer." He handed the detective one of the sheets with the incomprehensible graphics and information he had been looking at, so Woody stared at the coroner questioningly.

"Here." Bug pointed his finger to a name at the bottom of the chart. "Ryan Hendrikssen, the DNA from the blood on the footstep and the broken glass matches up with this guy."

-------------------

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	18. The revelation

Chapter 18. **The revelation**.

They had found Mrs. Driscoll's murderer, and if they were lucky – Woody thought to himself- he was the same person that had killed Thomas. The only pieces of evidence that related both deaths were the bullets. The one they had found inside Thomas' head had the same marks than the bullet that had killed Mrs. Driscoll, both had come from the same gun. However, it wasn't a registered gun, but it would be incriminating if Hendrikssen turned out to have it.

Woody called Detective Jenssen, from the vice-narcotics unit. He had been cooperating actively with him, providing the information that had helped enormously to discover the perp. His colleague was particularly interested in this case because he hadn't been able to link the drug dealer with the drug's sales he made at this school area of Boston.

Woody also called the cops he had sent to Thomas' funeral, he ordered them to guard the Richmond and Jordan until he could join them. He spoke to Jordan as well, and told her the last developments.

Then, Woody gathered the people he needed to catch Hendrikssen and search his house, looking for crime evidences. Jenssen joined him, and Lu also volunteered for the operation. The proves they had concerning Hendrikssen's culpability were enough to get the search warrant, and when it was ready, the entire police team went to arrest the criminal.

Meanwhile, the funeral ended with no further problems. Driscoll hadn't showed up and neither had Hendrikssen. Jordan accompanied her recently found friends –Dylan and his daughter Erin- to their home. She was determined to get them safe, Woody had told her that police was already on the murderer's tracks and she didn't want her friend getting involved in the operation. She knew Dylan would feel compelled to haunt the criminal if he learned his actual whereabouts.

However, the police squad didn't find Hendrikssen at his house, so, the only thing they could do was let the CSU collect evidences.

Woody was still at Hendrikssen's house when he got a call that would change the course of ongoing events, as well as his own life.

A firefight had broken out near Richmond's apartment.

The Professor was injured, but safe. However, Hendrikssen had caught his daughter captive inside a pet shop. Lu and Woody climbed in his car immediately when they learned it. Then, in his way to where the shooting had occurred, he asked dispatch the details about the incident and put the radio loudspeaker so both Lu and him would hear it.

"Hendrikssen has hostages inside the shop. We don't know how many. There isn't any communication with him yet. The SWAT squad is getting there. A sniper tried to kill Hendrikssen while he talked with two teenagers on the street, identified as Erin Richmond and Howard Driscoll. The father of the Richmond girl interposed, striving to rescue his daughter, but he got shot in the firefight that broke out when Hendrikssen aimed back at the sniper. He took the girl away and hid inside the shop. The police that escorted Richmond and Dr. Cavanaugh tried to save her but a second shooting got place with another sniper, on the left side of the street. There have been two deaths. The area has been secured, and a team is already looking for the snipers. There isn't any news about that." The characteristic static noise of the radio was heard when the police dispatcher ended.

Woody's heart raced, his mind reeling about a single idea – dispatcher hadn't told him who had died. So, while he stepped on the accelerator to pick up speed, he asked over the radio, "What do you know about Dr. Cavanaugh?"

"We don't know anything about her. According to an officer, she disappeared during the firefight," the dispatcher answered.

Woody turned off the radio. He took a deep breath striving to recover all his lost strength and get over a heavy hit of dizziness.

Jordan wasn't dead but she could be in great danger.

Color had left his skin, and his eyes showed the sudden anguish he submerged in. Lu watched him from her place on the copilot seat and unexpectedly she realized everything, she saw it clear as crystalline water.

"You do love her, don't you?" she told him, with uneasy eyes.

Woody turned startled to look at her, and the only thing he could do was protest weakly, "She's my friend… I care about her…" He got his attention back to the road hastily, frowning and clearly disbelieving the order of things they were discussing, but mostly, with incredulity for his own reaction.

¿Who was he trying to fool?

Then, his phone started to ring, and it kept on furiously until he managed to answer it while still on the driving wheel. He glimpsed at the screen to know who was calling, and breathed relieved though his hand was shaking. "Jordan! Are you OK? Where are you?"

From the other end of the line, she responded whispering, surrounded with the sound of animal commotion, "I'm fine. I hid inside the pet shop, behind Snow cage." She kept quiet for a second. "Who names a St. Bernard 'Snow'? Anyway… Aside from Erin there are three hostages. The pet shop employee – a fat man around fifty, he doesn't seem very brave; a young woman around twenty five, and an old man. I'm getting Erin out of here, I have a plan. I've been hearing Hendrikssen discuss with somebody- he's been calling 'sick boy'- over his phone. It seems that drug smuggler heads ordered to get rid of him now that police have evidence against him, so, he's at a very delicate position, between two fires. He's planning to escape from the country with a hostage…"

Woody interrupted her, incredulous, "Are you crazy! Wait, don't move! You don't have to risk yourself unnecessarily! The SWAT squad will be there in no time, they're gonna get you all out of there," he alleged desperately.

"Yes, but no one says it's gonna be alive, right?" she shot back, sarcastically. "Hendrikssen is injured; he can't hold the gun with his right arm and he's helping himself with his left hand," she informed him, as if the apparent weakness that Hendrikssen showed justified her attempt at saving the girl all by herself.

"No Jordan, please," he pleaded. "You would be more useful if you keep hiding and tell us what's happening… Please don't move."

"I can't. He's gonna notice I'm here pretty soon – my hideout isn't very effective, you know? And then, I won't be able to help Erin. I have to act fast." Her voice was all about determination.

"He isn't a reasonable person, he's killed before. What makes you think you have a chance?" he still tried to talk her out of it.

"Well, from my point of view, there are two possibilities. If he gets notice I'm here before I do something, the surprise element will be lost. He'll try to kill me anyway, you see? But if I get Erin out of here before that happens, we win," she justified.

"What are you gonna do, Jordan? Please be reasonable," he begged.

"Erin is standing near the emergency door. If I distract him and push her out, your men can pull her away to a safe place. You'll have to be ready for that. SWAT team can step in just then, and we'll have to pray that Hendrikssen would be the only possible death amid the confusion, right Snow?" she ended, mordantly, obviously pretending to talk to the dog inside the crate she hid behind.

"Can't you just wait for the team to be ready? They can get rid of the threat without endangering you all." Woody made one more attempt, striving to buy time for the team to be effectively ready.

"No… He's very nervous. He's gonna start shooting any minute." The loud back noise of dogs barking and birds squawking confirmed the chaos that reigned inside the pet shop. The situation was about to explode.

"Jordan, please, don't do it. If something happens to you…" He breathed rapidly, struggling to get over an anxiety attack. He wrestled with words, truly helpless. A few seconds passed, the only thing he heard in the meantime was a loud whistle stabbing his head while his heart beat wild. With deep emotion, he gasped, "If something happens to you… Jordan – I love you. Please don't…" He bit his lips without knowing what else he could say to convince her.

The revelation struck them all, leaving them - him, Jordan… Lu- dumbfounded. An oppressive silence enveloped them for a few instants, the penetrating siren noise piercing their ears.

"I have to," she finally said, firmly. "I can't choose. You'll have to be ready in two minutes." Then, she added changing to a sweeter tone, her voice faltering with emotion, "Woody… I – I love you too."

The silence enveloped him again. She had hung up.

ooooooooooooo

_You know, this story is about to end, so it would be great if you tell me if you enjoyed it. Reviews are food for the soul of a ff writer._


	19. Beyond adrenaline and reason

Chapter 19. **Beyond adrenaline and reason**.

One minute was all it took for Woody to warn the SWAT team about the situation inside the pet shop. He also informed his men, so they could be ready for what was imminently going to happen. That same minute was what it took for him to reach the scene, and with tires squealing, he announced his arrival. He turned off the engine and climbed out of the car without bothering to shut the door or check on what Lu was doing at the same time, he didn't care at the moment. He ran like a haunted soul, and he didn't stop until he was a few yards away from the emergency exit. From his new position, crouched behind a police patrol, he could hear the commotion of frightened animals inside the shop. Somebody gave him a bulletproof vest, and he put it on quickly while he listened through the radio what was going on with the snipers of the SWAT squad, as well as with the entire team. Nobody had Hendrikssen in view yet, though they had located three of the hostages. However, they knew nothing about Jordan or the Richmond girl.

Woody knew they were running out of time, and that the way things evolved would definitely mark his entire destiny. It was the gamble of his life.

Suddenly, two shots were heard inside the shop, but the emergency door didn't open. In one instant, the commotion reached hysterical levels, panic yelling, outrageous barking dogs, and all kind of animal loud sounds inside, mixed with the turmoil that went on outside. Every human team, police, medical, or even the news, ran and communicated through radios, striving to get what was going on inside the shop, but at the moment, nobody actually knew.

Out of desperation, Woody forgot about any protocol he had to follow, and flew toward the place the SWAT team was stationed, on one side of the emergency door.

Oooooooooooo

Having said what she needed, Jordan hung up the phone. The certainty that Woody loved her, made her envision a possible future she hadn't let herself even think of before. For a moment, emotion embraced her, up to the point she forgot the frightening ordeal she was facing. She felt as if her heart didn't beat alone anymore, but in blissful harmony, performing a duet with Woody's. Tears crowded her eyes, and they flowed away freely at last, but they were tears of happiness, so she didn't wipe them off. It all felt so right.

However, Hendrikssen's screaming gibberish snapped her out of her daydreaming, and her inner energy transformed its happiness into a throbbing excitation. She had to deal now with the difficult task she had imposed to herself. Alertness invaded her body, every pore of her skin sweated adrenaline. It was very clear for her that, in order to get to Woody, she had to save Erin, and if it was possible, the three other hostages too.

She inspected the situation briefly, and weighed the possibilities. Hendrikssen was threatening with the gun to the woman that was inside the store when he got in with Erin.

"I have a little girl waiting for me at home… I only came here for her puppy. You can't take away a mother from a little girl! Please, my child needs me! Don't shoot me… I'll do whatever you say," she begged the criminal, while she knelt on the floor and bowed her head in submission. The puppy on her hands started to bark furiously, and she tightened it up trying to quell the barking.

Hendrikssen pointed with the gun to the other two hostages and ordered them, "You two! Come here and kneel down beside her." He tilted the gun to the said direction. "On your knees! If someone moves, I kill you," he threatened with a hoarse and trembling voice, with the classic nervousness of a punk without aplomb that is ready to pull the trigger at any small disturbance.

The two men moved immediately toward where he said. The fat man seemed at the edge of crying, shaking violently like a leaf battered by the wind. However, the old man seemed unaffected, and he proposed to the menacing man, with a kind voice, "Let the women go, you can keep us both with you. You heard the young lady, she has a little child waiting for her at home, and the other girl is so young, her parents must be terrified."

The fat man turned around to look at him, astonished. "Speak for yourself, you decrepit man!" he protested meanly, and then he said to Hendrikssen, "If you're gonna release somebody, let me go. I haven't done anything to you…"

"Shut up!" the criminal lashed out pointing his gun at them, and at the same time he pulled Erin to him, as if he had noticed the girl was too close to the emergency door.

The noise the animals made became strident, swelling up to the point the puppy on the young woman arms began to shriek really loud, and she let it free. The little animal tried to run to hide, but Hendrikssen shot it before it could escape. At the same instant, the old man threw himself over the young woman, striving to protect her from the bullet, but the nervous man pulled the trigger again almost involuntarily releasing a second shot when the older man moved. Between desperate yelling, human and animal, it couldn't be distinguished right away what had happened. Hendrikssen let Erin free for a moment, and Jordan took advantage of it, getting out of her hideout --at the kidnaper's back. He banged a birdcage against him, and pulled Erin away from him as fast as she could. Because of the unexpected hit, he dropped the gun, and while he struggled to recover it from the ground, everybody ran to hide.

Hendrikssen blocked the way to the emergency door, so Jordan and Erin could only reach the office, which was a poor hideout since it had a big, panoramic window facing the rest of the store. However, it served to make them gain a little more time, crouching behind a desk. Jordan crawled on the floor toward another door that led to a little bathroom. She pulled Erin to her again, and both got inside the new hiding place. The bathroom had no windows, or anything that could help them to escape. It was a dead-end. For a fleeting instant, Jordan felt as though everything ended inside that place, not only her actual life, but what it could have been her life with Woody. However, suddenly she felt invaded for a renewed strength, and beyond adrenaline or any other corporeal fluid, beyond any sense of reason that kept telling her that she could be terminated, she decided that the battle hadn't ended.

It was then precisely when she heard a big explosion coming up from the outside, and the sound of many people stepping into the store. Amid the steps, she also heard a final shot.

Her heart beat wild, convinced that the rescue team had entered, but without knowing if Hendrikssen had been caught, she still didn't want to leave their safe place. The voice of an all too familiar man, calling her name, made her smile, relieved. She embraced Erin, and both women stepped out of the bathroom.

"Jordan!" Woody still shouted over the noise the animals made so she could hear him, until he saw her coming out of the office along with Erin and ran to catch up with her.

Jordan realized that in order to get them inside, the SWAT team had blown up the emergency door. Hendrikssen lay on the ground with an accurate gunshot on the forehead. The young woman and the fat man were leaving the pet shop, and the old man was on the floor, injured. A couple of medics were taking care of him already. The little puppy was also on the ground, motionless, on front of Hendrikssen. An officer took Erin from her, and led the girl to the exit.

When Woody reached her, he took her on an impetuous embrace, and he held her tight against his chest. He repeated in a very low voice, probably trying to convince himself, "Oh Jordan, you're OK, you're OK, you're OK!"

She sensed how her eyes crowded with tears, and hugged him back, hiding her face against him. She smiled widely, letting the emotion finally invade her, as well of thoughts of possible futures. She murmured with trembling voice, "Now, I'm OK."


	20. The celebration past the afterparty

Chapter 20. **The celebration past the after-party**.

Lily watched the crowd from one end of the bar counter. The rehearsal after party was taking place in the hotel bar where she would stay that night before the wedding. Jordan, her maid of honor, and Jeffrey—the groom- as well as his family would stay there too. All her friends from the morgue had arrived, as well as many police friends and people from the Court.

Jordan looked particularly beautiful. She wore her hair up and a pair of large hoop earrings that accentuated her long and graceful neck. The violet silk-sexy dress fit her wonderfully, its wide neckline revealed lots of skin, her back and her bare shoulders. The kneels-length skirt allowed showing her well formed legs. She arrived alone at the party, but the radiant smile lighting her face contradicted their last talking - Lily thought to herself. Two days ago, her friend was really sad, mostly to any mention of certain blue-eyed detective. But today, it seemed that her life couldn't be happier.

Now, speaking of the devil, he came into the room in that moment. He searched with the eye someone among the gathering. He had arrived late, probably due to the high amount of work that narcotic-vice unit had with him. Jordan had told her about Richmond, his son's death, the cocaine drug dealer and all that nasty business Woody had been working on lately, and that also involved the firefight and the hostage situation her friend had suffered yesterday.

Woody barely acknowledged his friends with a nod movement, still engrossed in his seek. He dressed very formal, even for that occasion. A dark suit and a white shirt, but what robbed her attention was the tie. The cop had a thing for ugly ties, but this particular one was actually nice and 'in fashion', so to speak. Had it been Lu's idea? The red-haired wondered.

Then, Woody reached Jordan. She smiled at him while he shook hands with the prosecutor – a Jeffrey's friend- that accompanied her. Suddenly, something so freaking-unusual happened, Woody hugged Jordan, taking her by the waist with his right arm, and he planted her one sound kiss on the mouth. She, instead of rejecting him or playing dumb – as expected, fully embraced him and responded to his kiss eagerly.

The District Attorney gaped at them, really stunned, he had known the pair from a long time and he found their behavior strange, to say the least. They had the same effect on Lily, that wouldn't surpass the wonder, her mouth wide open. The prosecutor left alone the police and the coroner, sneaking away surreptitiously.

"You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear, when their mouths were finally freed from the kiss, and he felt how she trembled at the touch of his lips on her left ear lobe.

"Mmmh, you don't look half-bad yourself." She lifted her face to look at him, wickedly, and fixed the knot of his tie.

"It's a little strange, you know, here, in front of everyone ..." He smiled confused, as he nodded his head toward one side of the room and then the other, beckoning her to make notice of their surroundings -the different eyes that were stuck on them, and also noting that the prosecutor had left them alone.

"Are you OK?" he asked as if he wanted to make sure she wasn't going to escape the very moment he went to get their drinks.

She knew what Woody feared, but at the moment, everything seemed so right and natural, as it was unbelievable. She had no intention of running away. Being with him was all she wanted.

"Yes, you're with me. Everyone else, well, they'll just have to get used to it, don't you think?" She smiled in response, but the devilish expression didn't disappear from her face.

He looked at her with an incredulous smile that seemed carved on his face, relishing her answer. Then, he finally asked her, "Want to dance?"

She didn't respond with words, instead, she gave him her right hand for him to lead her. They had danced many times before, but this one offered new possibilities – more promising. The movement of their bodies came naturally, one dance followed another, and a few drinks accompanied them in the mean time during that enchanting night.

The time came for the wedding toast, and surprisingly, Bug pronounced the most emotional speech.

Woody and Jordan continued dancing and talking for a while, still enjoying the party, while they kissed occasionally, delighting themselves as well as some of their friends –Nigel mostly - who watched them. However, the criminologist distracted for a moment dancing with the groom's mother, and when he returned to his task, the lovebirds had flown away.

Oooooooo

Woody pressed the elevator's call button, and turned to where Jordan waited for him with her back leaning against the wall. He stopped on front of her, resting one arm against the wall, and leaving her trapped. He was playing with her earrings with his free hand, sticking a finger in between the rings, and as if by accident, he stroked her neck in his movement.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered, while kissing her neck lightly.

She felt shivers going down her spine. Every inch of her skin was alerted and waiting.

"Completely," she gazed at him eagerly, wantonly ..." And if you don't stop whispering in my ear, we won't make it to the room."

Jordan grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to kiss her. When she captured his mouth and he kissed her back fervently, she unbuttoned his shirt and started to explore his torso under the clothing. At that moment, the elevator's doors opened, and he tugged her by the waist, pulling her into the elevator without breaking the kiss.

They stumbled down into her room half minute later. Woody was torso naked – he held his shirt, his jacket and his tie on his hand. Jordan hadn't lost any garments. When they closed the door behind them, he dropped his clothes onto the floor and embraced her tightly, leaving them face to face, their excited and warm bodies making contact with each other.

"I'm at a disadvantage, it isn't fair," he told her seductively while his hands were looking to unzip her dress.

She put a face of pure innocence, looking at him like she was a tender, little girl. "And what exactly do you suggest to make things fair? I'm willing to cooperate."

He glanced at her playfully while he slid down the dress zipper and passed over her head the tie that still held the garment. He took her dress off, and discovered her black lingerie. "This!" he concluded as he nudged her toward the bed with him.

He pushed her onto the mattress vigorously, though he made sure it was a safe landing on her back for her. Then, he leaned into her and they kissed passionately. Jordan felt it was the happiest moment of her life, so, although her flesh was littered with sexual desire and all her body wanted him badly, when he gasped for air she surprised herself saying in a soft whisper, almost panting, "I love you."

It was like she had removed the safety to those words, and now she couldn't keep them inside her being anymore.

Woody couldn't believe his luck, her words moved his entire world. He gazed at her sweetly and caressed her face gently with his left palm, the other hand got caught in the act of unfastening her bra. They heard the clasp when it hit off open.

"You're beautiful," he managed as he hugged her. While they moved, her bra broke her breast free and they sensed their bare, warm chests one upon the other. Both their hearts beat fast and hard.

He started to kiss her lovingly, savoring her firm skin under his lips. He kept murmuring, "I love you," amid his kisses as he ran his mouth down her neck, her sternum, her breast, and catching her right, taunt nipple at the end. The pleasure made her arch against him, and that single act encouraged him to give her everything he had so he would fulfill her desires completely, his own body lustfully feverishly.

As he explored her, Jordan got invaded by a warmly state that mingled with her sexual desire and enabled her spirit to a special condition. She felt strong enough as to reveal herself completely to him. She craved to feel vulnerable to him, so he could enjoy not only the mere act of sex –of course she wanted to bring him to the ultimate pleasure- but she also wanted him to perceive her soul when she gave her entirely to him. And although she didn't have him inside yet, she knew the moment was coming, that he was becoming her unconditional partner, and it was painfully enjoyable, it thrilled her full living universe.

His big hands surveyed her body softly but avidly, his wet tongue following the same path behind. The wonderful pain she experienced increased desperately by the second with every action he performed on her. It grew when he got rid of her panties and stuck his tongue between her legs. It swelled up enormously when he took her clit and sucked urgently for several wonderful moments that put her at the edge of exploding.

However, when he released her for a second, she took advantage of it and struggled to remove his pants and boxers. She sought out for his manhood, and she finally found him in his entire splendor. She stroked him vehemently, kissed him, enjoyed him…

He handed her a condom in the mean time, and she fit it to him sensually as she stared into his eyes with her smoky eyes, full of lust.

He laid his back against the bed and watched her as she got on top of him, never taking her look away. She purred in a raspy voice, "You'll be mine."

His breathing failed him, barely containing his impatience for her to wrap her feminine fold on his erection. And when it happened, she and he became one alone. They crashed together into immense pleasure, moving as they danced, cadenced and confidently, up and down, outside-inside. Their hearts pumped their vital force. So it went, on the verge of exceeding the tolerable limit of pain, until it was so intense and great, that her vision blurred. He led her to the end… or the beginning, it all depended on the point of view. A hoarse and guttural cry announced her climax, her agony finally released and ending with a series of spasms.

He launched staccato snorts, and she felt inside her how he expanded and contracted, his orgasm overwhelming her, physically and spiritually.

She collapsed onto him. Their bodies, sweaty and exhausted, were content on the calm that ensued from the intense exercise. She glided her hand to his face, caressing his cheek, and kissed his lips softly. "I love you, Woody."

He sighed and returned her kiss, lovingly. "This is heaven Jordan. I know it may sound corny, but I swear I died and you're my heaven. I must have been a really good boy to deserve you."

"You're just lucky," she teased, and snuggled herself against his chest, feasting her eyes on his bright sapphires.

They spent the night together, celebrating the end of an age of disagreements and out-of-synchronicities.

That was the first night of their lives.

Oooooooo

_OK, you knew it was coming, didn't you? I hope you liked it, and I really would appreciate if you review. I still have some things to tell, and I will wrap up the whole story, as well as how I think their lives would be after this, in the Epilogue._


	21. The day after the first night

_**A.N.**__ Although this doesn't seem like the end, it sort of culminates what I wanted to say with the story. It is the end. However, I will deliver the Epilogue next week, and that'll be all. Hope you like it._

_And please, just so to cheer me up, will you review?_

_Thanks!_

Chapter 21.**The day after the first night**.

The morning surprised them embraced and naked under the sheets. He woke up first and rested his eyes on her beautiful body for a long moment. The emotion of the incredible turn his life had given had him on the verge of tears. She was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, and he couldn't avoid a sudden urge to touch her cheeks gently with the pads of his fingers… her skin felt smooth and warm. He could stay that way for centuries, delighting his eyes with the sight of her, serene, almost magical, her long-dark hair spread on the pillow. The soft scent of her perfume lingered though the space between them on the bed, and with so many sensations that came to celebrate his life, his heart was filled with joy.

Though, the memory of the last time he had woken up with her the same way came unexpectedly to bother him. His soul somehow darkened, troubled with the idea that nothing would have really changed, that their night together would have been a deceiving spark his unfathomable wishes had come to life… that he would notice again her discontent at being with him when she awakened.

He wanted to prolong the illusion a little more, so he struggled to keep quiet, not moving a muscle, and even holding his breath without realizing it. But it was all in vain, because she opened her eyes almost immediately.

The first thing she saw was his deep blue eyes, staring at her expectantly. She shot him a wonderful smile, loving and sincere.

It all made sense to Woody again.

He breathed the air he had been neglecting his lungs to get, his formerly glassy eyes transformed into a look of adoration, and he felt relieved.

Jordan couldn't help but feel confused. "What?" she murmured a little worried.

"Nothing," he answered, and kissed her lightly on the cheeks, forehead and lips.  
They spent a few moments enjoying more subtle kisses, a trail he left in his way from her face down to her belly, under the sheets. Then he poked his head from under the sheets and looked at her, entranced.

"I want to wake up like this every day, Jordan," he declared, smiling.

"Like what?" She replied smiling back at him, amused.

He trapped her on an emotional hug. His chest -feeling jubilant- sensed her exquisiteness. "With you, lying naked on my bed. I want you with me forever!"

She couldn't bear the temptation to kiss him on the mouth, a bit more than sweet and softly. She closed her eyes to fully enjoy the pleasure of feeling his great and safe hands all over her bare skin. When they finally broke the kiss off, she opened her eyes and stared at him with a very serious expression. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

He knew it was maybe too soon for her to accept it, but it seemed only natural to him. However, he squeezed her against him, as if trying to discourage her from any thought of escaping him. He wouldn't allow her running away from him anymore.  
"Or if you prefer, I can move in with you, I don't care ... as long as we're together. Are you surprised?"

She was still serious, "And Lu?"

"What about her?" He answered confused, getting up and sitting by her side, uneasily.

"I mean ... she and you ..." Jordan didn't know how to pose the question. Without getting up yet, she averted her gaze, suffocated. She made sure the sheets were covering completely her naked body, perhaps trying not to look vulnerable, but the mere implication of the question assured otherwise.

It troubled him her uneasiness, because after having spent a wonderful evening and an even more magnificent night together, everything should be more than clear to her. "She was listening when I told you that I love you, when you were at the pet shop. Later that night, when you went to the hospital to check up on Richmond, I wanted to explain her, but ... I had nothing to say, really. What could I tell her that wouldn't inflict more damage on her? That I longed to be with you when I was with her? I know I hurt her, and, uh, well…" He shook his head, ashamed. "She wouldn't listen to me. I think it was for the best ..."

For a moment, an awkward silence enveloped them, but he wasn't willing to lose her that easily due his stupidity, so he gathered his courage and continued, "Jordan, I love you, I really do. And I want you to be with me every single day of my life. I don't want to keep pretending we're nothing more than friends… it just doesn't satisfy me anymore. Being with you is all I ever wanted, and – I think we've come to terms with everything that tore us apart… Do you even want that? Us moving forward?" He sighed in despair. "Tell me I'm not crazy."

"No, you're not." She cast him one loving gaze, though she was still lost among the multitude of conflicting emotions and ideas that whirled inside her. "But I'm not sure of anything yet. However, I would be a hypocrite if I told you that I don't want to be with you… Let me think about this," she asked, serious and hesitant.

"Oh no, Jordan! Work with me here! We have to sort things out! I can't go back to the way things were, nothing moving, everything so ambiguous." He replied almost panicked. Then, a thought assaulted his mind so he spitted it out, unable to hide a suspicious tone, "Is there someone else? The Professor – and you?... or maybe Pollack…." His terrified scrutinizing stare all over her, his last words came out stifled.

She sat up beside him, without worrying about covering her nudity anymore, and wrapped him with a look of angst. She caressed his cheek lovingly with the back of her right hand, and without announcement, she leaned toward him and attacked him with an avid kiss. That was a kiss full of meaning, it tasted like anxiety and reassurance, it struggled to reach out the very depth of their uncertainties and confront them, it expressed love and sadness, it was her materialized soul. He answered immediately to those extreme emotions with the fervor of a drowning man clinging to a helping hand. It meant for him what life was all about… Jordan.

She let it go after a few moments of pouring her soul into that kiss, her face had a disturbed expression, and it was probably because of what she had realized. "We've hurt each other immensely." She sighed anguished and stared at him piercingly in his blue questioning eyes. "I love _You_." She pressed her index finger against his chest to emphasize her statement. "That's all that matters, isn't it?"

He closed his eyes, leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder, put his head on the recently kissed shoulder and Jordan leaned her head in his, as she started to pat his back, lovingly. Their sweet embrace comforted them for a few invaluable seconds. Their insecurities were slowly loosing ground.

When he finally looked up to her, the most joyful face of naughty girl greeted him. She blurted out, playfully, "My apartment is bigger than yours, and I'd rather…"

He made a face of pure relieve. He didn't let her finish firmly gripping the base of her neck with his open palm and tugging her to him, silencing her with another kiss. It started off as a sweet caress, but it rapidly escalated to something more than passionate.

Still mired in this trance, Jordan's phone started ringing, and Woody found it terribly frustrating. It recalled him of another occasion, the phone interrupting them when they were about to kiss at the morgue's roof at LA, so long ago.

He let go of her just for a second to tell her determinedly, "Don't answer it."

She agreed, laughing softly against his mouth and shaking her head, amused.

He continued kissing her, however, the damn phone kept on furiously ringing, and the thrill of the kiss diluted, until it felt too demanding that she shrugged her shoulders as surrendering to the facts, and broke the kiss off. "it might be important."

Much to Woody's hatred, she reached out the noisy thing about to fall off the bedside table, and answered it.

Just then, someone knocked on the door repeatedly. Woody recognized Lily's voice calling "Jordan ... Jordaaan. Jordan!"

Meanwhile, Jordan was still on the phone fully concentrated on what looked like a very serious call, so she waved her hand beckoning him to open the door. He looked at her shaking his head bewildered, and came out of the bed making her notice his nakedness. Jordan made an impatience gesture, and she persisted motioning him to get the door open as Lily's urgent banging didn't seem to subdue. So Woody resigned, knowing that the spell was broken, there wouldn't be more time alone with Jordan ... at least for this morning.

He put his pants on quickly while Jordan dressed with a silk gown that she took off her suitcase, and while she was still tying the knot of the gown, he finally opened the door.

"Jordan," Lily greeted when the door opened, but at the sight of a torso naked, barefooted Woody in front of her, she went momentarily speechless.

"Hi Lily, Jordan is busy with a phone call, do you want to come inside?" He stepped aside and smiled at her with an expression of a little boy caught in mischief.

Recovered from the shock, she walked in throwing him a wicked grin over her shoulder. "Was about time! This is wonderful! You two naughty kids have to tell me everything!"

Jordan hung up then, her face completely different from that of just a minute ago; she was serious and tough, even alarmed and alert. She stared at them and let out earnestly, "I have to go now. Lily, I'm sorry, I can't stay."

Her words were like a blow of freezing air.

Woody gripped her arm firmly and leaned toward her, almost angry, demanding, "What is it, Jordan? What could it be that important?"

She looked up to him -her eyes had a disturbed shine. "JD was killed." She scratched her neck nervously with her free hand, biting her lips, truly upset. "I have to go to Washington. Forgive me Woody, I wasn't planning on this ..."

He took a moment to process the news, his mind running extra speed. Yet his heart knew what to do right away, so he said without hesitation, "Don't worry." He embraced her lovingly. "I'm not leaving you alone, I'm going with you."

Lily shot them a look of horror. She folded her arms against her chest as if she was trying to protect herself from an unseen danger.

Jordan was crying silently, her head resting against Woody's strong chest.

"Are you sure?" She finally whispered in a broken voice.

"Of course! You're all I have. This is a difficult moment to you, so I'm obliged, even if you don't want me to." He forced him to be a strong and a reliable man for her – her saving rock amid the fury of a fast river. Even though he felt consumed by low and petty emotions -jealousy and rage- every time the Aussie was mentioned, and though he didn't know what to make of Jordan's sorrow, he was sure of one simple thing. He loved her, and he would do _anything_ to cut her pain, make her burden disappear.

"Thanks." She smiled sadly at him.

"And what should I do?" Lily cried out distressed.

Jordan only managed to stammer an apology, "Sorry ..."

But Woody interrupted her immediately. "You still have time to think things through, Lily. You opened my eyes," he glanced significantly toward Jordan. "Maybe - you're in the same situation ... Bug only wants you happy."

Lily answered with a silent expression of astonishment and regret. Given the urgency of events, she only could resign leaving the couple alone, and walked away to confront her own dilemma.


	22. Epilogue

**Epilogue**.

After a week of dangerous research in DC, Jordan unraveled the corrupt network that surrounded JD's death. Woody was by her side and used all his contacts helping her. It was a very difficult week because it not only implied dealing with the death of a loved one - or the most unloved person from Woody's point of view, but the fact that within the short period of that week they faced years of romantic misunderstandings, frustrations, dreams and longing that until that moment seemed unattainable. Isolated from their Bostonian atmosphere, Jordan and Woody dealt with their inner demons, they quarreled and reconciled more times than in the years that followed, when Woody moved in with her.

JD's murdering was the pinnacle of the efforts of a desperate man to conceal the true causes of the death of several miners. In this sordid passage was involved a judge, who saw fit to commit suicide when he realized that his participation was about to see the light, just after Jordan confronted him. Things got confused and really messed her up, as well as her relationship with her blue-eyed detective. However, the murderer was caught without allowing Jordan make a terrible mistake by taking the law into her own hands. Woody arrived at the scene a few moments before the Washington's police squad and persuaded Jordan to hand over the weapon to him, without anyone else noticing it.

Dylan Richmond recovered quickly from his new wound. The bullet had hit him on the chest, but fortunately the doctors were able to repair the damage. Erin, his daughter, was at his side all the time the same week Jordan stayed at DC.

In the end, beside the death of Hendrikssen, the Richmond case left four lamentable casualties. One confused boy tormented by the loss of his mother found a dangerous escape with the false door of drugs. Martha Driscoll followed to Thomas' death, and without even being involved in the affair, she became a collateral victim of a punk dealing with drugs. The same thing happened with Mr. Pike, a random passerby who was walking down the wrong street at the wrong time and when the crossfire that ensued between mob snipers and Hendrikssen got place, a stray bullet hit him in the head giving him an instantaneous death. And in active duty, Officer Drummond protected innocent people during the same firefight, until a bullet also killed him.

There were only black clouds covering Howard Driscoll's future, he had been orphaned and had no close family to support him. However, he formed strong emotional ties with the father of his friend Thomas. The Driscoll boy had tried to talk Thomas out of drugs, and then he tried to protect him from Hendrikssen. The Professor appreciated his effort, greatly moved by the boy's strength and how he had faced their friendship. It made a little easier for him dealing with the death of his own son. It was obvious then that Dylan Richmond began to see Howard through the eyes of a father, so he asked the corresponding authorities to be his tutor. A person with no financial problems and with his moral was perfect to occupy that position, so they granted his request.

Fate sometimes had unexpected solutions.

Jordan went -one day after returning from DC- to thank Dylan for what he had done for her. And although the Professor had somehow fallen in love with her, he couldn't help but feel satisfied that she had finally found the strength to venture herself into the wilderness of love with her detective, that she had found a way to stop being a lonely heart. He knew, moreover, that he was already beginning to heal from all his losses, and that love surrounded him with his daughter and Howard by his side -both needed of him now- and that his destiny hadn't been written on stone yet. He might find someone else to share his life with afterwards.

Love wasn't a destination but a way to make the road of life.

Lily broke off her engagement with Jeffrey right after Jordan and Woody left to DC. Things weren't easy to her because she had to dismiss all her guests when everything was ready for the ceremony, but the reality was that she already knew she could no longer ignore her love for Bug. So the redhead proposed to the taciturn coroner one month later, and they married that year. They had a beautiful daughter they called Madeleine, and a son called Nigel. Their children were the light in their eyes, and the boy developed a special bond with the guy that inspired his name. Over time, the small Nigel learned the art and science of criminology.

Lu finally accepted Woody's apologies. Eventually, she forgave him truly from the heart and they learned to relate to each other differently, up to the point they became true friends. She worked many times with Jordan and came to understand why Woody loved her so much, and though she never fully approved her eclectic forms of fighting crime and injustice, she admired the brunette coroner greatly. Lu also worked with Woody for more than twenty years in the Boston police, and married a lawyer -who became a district judge. But she never had children, and perhaps that was the reason why Lu worked hard at rehabilitating young offenders, devoting to it the major part of her free time, and after retiring, she threw herself entirely into it.

When Jordan was in Washington trying to find out the death of JD, she met a blonde colleague, with whom at that time she had serious disagreement. They had very different ways to proceed at work, though they both were pushy and righteous. Woody swore he had never known a woman so nasty and mean, and yet beneath that hard shell, Jordan discovered one of her best friends. Dr. Kate Switzer requested her transfer to the Boston's morgue a few months after the JD's incident, and while she found it pretty difficult to fit in the team, one of her harshest detractors ended romantically involved with her. Nigel and Kate married a few years later and had a son that Kate flatly refused to name Mahesh, like their good friend Bug. So the child ended up with the name of his grandfather –Nigel's father- Gordon. Small Gordon Townsend and Nigel Vijay grew up together, and followed the footsteps of their parents not only professionally, but emulating the deep friendship that united them all their lives.

As far as for what happened with Jordan and Woody, they had a long and fulfilling life, health never lacked at their home. They continued working together and had as many disagreements as they had agreements, it wasn't easy to make their love relationship work alongside their jobs, but they succeeded. They put a lot of effort, had to exorcise all their demons and fight thousands of small daily battles, but they made it work because love geared them up powerfully. He went to live with her, and after a year he asked her to marry him. They married two years after that, when Woody finally tracked down Max, so he would be with them at their wedding. He really wanted his family to be complete. But in the interim, they had two daughters, heiresses of great intelligence and an adventurous and rebellious spirit. The Hoyt sisters, two beautiful girls with blue eyes and dark hair, might as well have won a beauty contest, but they were much more than that. They put in jeopardy their father more than one occasion -and a lot, lot more than Jordan- but their grandfather only enjoyed the little devils because he had already been through it before. Kayleigh, the firstborn, became a doctor, and little Leila, a lawyer… but their lives are another story.

Jordan never found the greatest mystery that inspired her career, and which also nearly ruined her life. If Max knew something about Emily's death, he kept the secret to him up to the grave. However, he still enjoyed his grandchildren for twenty-seven adventurous years. It wasn't easy for Jordan, but she finally learned to let go of the past. She forgave her father for all the secrets he had kept from her and took him back into her family. For Woody, Max ended up being like a second father.

Woody heard from his brother Cal once again, though they were unfortunate circumstances. One day, a woman contacted him by phone and requested an urgent interview. Woody arrived at a dirty hotel room to find his brother lying on the floor, dead from an overdose. The woman beside him was kneeling on the floor, carrying on her arms a small boy with blue, beautiful eyes. She, already in a sea of tears and with a broken and defeated attitude, handed the child to Woody and left, disappearing without a trace. A DNA test proved the child as Cal's son, and therefore, his nephew. Jordan immediately welcomed him as her son too. Little Jimmy Carter couldn't escape the Hoyt's tradition for the unfortunate presidential names, but he did providentially manage to avoid the uncertain future with drug-addicted parents. His uncle embraced him in a safe and strong home, full of love and hard work. James Hoyt, after a successful career as a psychiatrist, became a cop - there was no way he wouldn't follow the footsteps of his beloved dad Woody. James –by the way, it wasn't a coincidence that Jordan agreed so easily with such a name- became one of the most solicited profilers of the entire east side of the country.

Meanwhile, Garret Macy watched his beloved team evolve, working for their beliefs, developing strong links, becoming a real big family. He remained the head of the Boston coroner's office for another ten years until Kate replaced him. In retirement, he devoted himself to writing and publishing books, many of them revealing the wonders of forensic sciences, but others -the most precious ones- about some of the most interesting cases he had worked in, turning them into novels, and where Jordan was his recurrent main protagonist. She was his muse, his friend, his almost daughter.

Garret made it very clear on his books how Jordan had helped many people to cross to the other side of the bitter river of death in a dignified manner, providing them with justice when needed, bringing the family peace by knowing the reasons they desperately wanted, but mainly, giving meaning to their deaths and their lives.

Oooooooooo

_So, this is my epilogue to Crossing Jordan. I hope you liked it!_

_As always, reviews are much appreciated!_

_Sorry if it took me more than I promised, but I was probably evading this moment,_

_THE END._


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